


christmas (through your eyes)

by Bugggghead



Series: spend the holidays with bughead [3]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Bughead Secret Santa, Building snowmen, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Cuddling, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Fred and Mary Andrews are amazing, Playing in the Snow, Sledding, Strangers to Lovers, adorable winter activities, bed sharing, but they will when they return, mistletoe kisses, oh no there's one bed!, they may not know each other when they embark on this journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: After being faced with Christmas alone in the city, Betty hastily agrees to join Jughead in Riverdale with the Andrews. To complicate matters, they've met two times - and one of those, she was wearing elf ears.-A Bughead Secret Santa gift for @SunlitGarden***WINNER: BEST MULTICHAPTER FLUFF, 4TH BUGHEAD FANFICTION AWARDS***





	1. December 16

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunlitGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS SUNLITGARDEN!
> 
> When I got your name for Secret Santa, I was SO excited. You are one of my most favorite people in fandom and I have had SO MUCH FUN gathering details to weave into the narrative. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Special thanks to my beta extraordinaire @jandjsalmon for working wonders with my words. <3 <3 <3
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=2v0folx)  
> 

*****

 

“Jugggggg,” Jellybean whined, jutting out her bottom lip for emphasis. “Please don’t make me do this. I’m seventeen years old for God’s sake. None of my friends take pictures with Santa.”

 

“JB, it’s a tradition! The final days of your youth are slipping right between your fingers and I just want to capture your last year of innocence.”

 

JB laughed at that - a deep, hearty laugh that had his lips twitching up in a smile. “If you wanted to capture my innocence, Jug, you’re a few years too late. I have lived with Mom my whole life, remember?”

 

“Touche,” he conceded. “But it was better than Dad, I can promise you that.”

 

“Oh, I have no doubt.”

 

“And at least we get to spend Christmas together every year, even if Dad hasn’t been around the last few. Listen, I know sitting on Santa’s lap feels like something you’ve outgrown, but please... do it for me, Jelly?” He tried his best to widen his eyes, pouting the same way she’d done just moments before.

 

It must have worked because she groaned. “Fiiiiinneeee.”

 

They were only two people from the front of the line, having waited over half an hour already as they made their way to the front. Jellybean couldn’t help her sigh. “I’m the oldest one here, Jug. This is  _ so  _ embarrassing.”

 

“Embarrassing? You don’t even know anyone here!”

 

“So? Do I have to know someone to be embarrassed? Not to mention, you’ll have photographic evidence of your nearly adult sister sitting on Santa’s lap for the rest of our lives. I’ve already agreed, so I’m going to do it, but you owe me, big brother.”

 

“Deal,” he said triumphantly. “What’s your price?”

 

Without hesitation, she replied, “Ask out the blonde elf when you’re picking up the pictures.”

 

Jughead looked over to where his gaze had obviously not-to-subtly strayed as they waited and glowered at his sister. “What the hell, Jelly? Of all things you could possibly con me into, you choose to set me up on a date?”

 

“Jug,” she started, turning serious as she surveyed his features. Her voice dropped to just above a whisper, “I worry about you. I’ll be eighteen next year and a freshman in college. You won’t have anyone around and you, above anyone else I know, deserve to have someone by your side. You’re a genuinely good guy, Jug, and I just want you to be happy.”

 

He wanted to launch into a monologue about the twisted reasoning behind her request. He certainly didn’t require companionship to be happy - no one did, he reasoned. He’d been alone for the last twenty four years of his life and everything was just fine: he had a good job, albeit one that came with long hours and very little social interaction, but it was a good job nonetheless.

 

“I know. You mean well and I appreciate that-”

 

“So, ask her out,” JB cut in. “Come on, Juggie, you may think you’re subtle but I’ve seen you eyeing her from back here. She has that Hitchcock blonde appeal that I  _ know _ you like.”

 

Jughead could feel the heating rising to his cheeks, clearing his throat he said, “Shut up,” as inconspicuously as possible as they stepped forward to the front of the line. 

 

JB leaned over, her voice barely more than a whisper as she said, “Let loose, Big Brother. Have a little fun.”

 

“Ho, ho, ho, and Merrrrryyyy Christmas,” the bubbly blonde elf greeted. “Have you already selected a picture package.”

 

Jughead pointed to the one they were going to get. It was just the digital image and a few prints.

 

“Perfect! Now if you could just fill out your information here while we wait for the boss to finish up, I’ll be back in just a few.”

 

“Sounds good.” He could feel his lips curling up in a smile he hadn’t intended on wearing. “Thank you,” he called as she stepped back over to the desk.

 

A few moments later the crying child that had been on Santa’s lap was picked up by her parents. Jellybean moved forward and greeted Santa with a huge hug. Despite all of her protests, he knew she enjoyed this ritual just as much as he did and that same betraying smile was twisting between his cheeks when the elf, apparently named Betty, if her nametag was to be trusted, waved him over behind the camera. “Can I just say how much fun it is to take a picture for someone who can clearly follow directions,” she whispered, earning her a soft chuckle as he watched her click through until the picture filled the screen. 

 

“I think she’s just about the least obedient seventeen-year-old you’ll ever meet.”

 

It was her turn to giggle, the soft sound making his grin grow as she looked over to him. “Is she yours?”

 

“Do I look that old?” 

 

“No,” she shook her head, giggling again, “you do not. Touche.”

 

When she instructed Jellybean to say jingle bells, she surprisingly did so with a huge smile that matched the man in red’s. “You’re good at this,” he said with his voice just above a whisper, leaning over to watch the pictures as she captured them.

 

“It’s not that complicated.” 

 

“I don’t know, I think it takes a certain kind of person to come here day in and day out and take pictures of screaming kids with Santa.”

 

“Oh yeah? A certain kind of person? It’s not too bad. I think the worst one this year was a few days ago.” She looks around briefly, Jellybean and the mall Santa now talking about what she wants for Christmas. As soon as she was sure no one other than him could hear her, she leaned over and cupped her hand around her mouth as she whispered, “Some kid peed on him.”

 

He laughed at that, a deep, hearty laugh that earned him another beaming smile in return. He caught himself staring for a beat too long when he heard JB call his name. “Are we good? Did you guys get one?”

 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, yes. Come on. Let’s go.”

 

“Thanks for coming,” she said with a much chipper tone than she’d had just moments before. “Your pictures will take about fifteen minutes to print if you’d like to wander around the mall. I’ll have them here waiting for you when you get back, uh,” she paused for a moment to look back down to the clipboard with his information, “Jughead. Wait? Really?”

 

“Trust me, the real one’s worst. Probably like Betty, right? I mean who has that name outside of housewives in the fifties.”

 

He could see the pink stain tinting her cheeks. “Actually, that’s my real name. Short for Elizabeth, I’m not sure which is worse.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I, uh,” he paused, “Betty’s nice. So is Elizabeth. But I think there’s something to be said for callbacks to the golden age, right?”

 

“Sure, Jug-Head,” she countered, a golden brow arched in his direction. “I’ll see you in a few.”

 

-

 

“My stomach is going to explode,” JB groaned, clutching it in mock exaggeration as she leaned back in the food court booth.

 

“You know that’s a lie.” Jughead couldn’t help the smile brimming on his lips as he looked over the trays with nothing but menial scraps now resting on the plates. “The Jones stomach is the stuff of legends, Jelly. We can eat our body weight ten times over any given day and still ask for more. Plus, it’s not my fault you couldn’t decide where to eat. Variety is the spice of life, after all.”

 

“Oh god please stop talking about spices.”

 

Just then, his phone began to buzz on the table, the name ‘Fred’ lit up on its screen. “Hey, Fred. It’s so good to hear from you.”

 

The conversation didn’t last long, working out the details of when he’d be arriving at the Andrews for their annual Christmas celebration. Apparently, Archie and his brood wouldn’t be staying the whole week like they had the year before. It was their year with the Lodge’s which meant they’d be coming over Christmas Eve for dinner and spending the rest of the time with Veronica’s family. Just as they had firmed up the plans for Jughead’s arrival, JB waved her hands in front of him. “Oh, hold on, Fred. Give me a second.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, tapping the mute button to look at his sister. “What’s up? Did you need me to tell him something?”

 

“Can I talk to him?” she asked.

 

“Oh, uh, sure, here. Hold on a second.” With another quick press of the mute button, he was passing over his phone, sitting back in his own chair and lamenting their choice to order from four different restaurants for a single meal.

 

Jellybean carried on about her senior year and how Toledo was treating her. “I miss you guys, too,” she said with a touch of sadness. “No, I can’t come up this year. Maybe next?” Judging by the smile she wore right after, Fred must’ve wholeheartedly agreed. “Oh, one more thing. Jughead’s bringing his girlfriend with him this year.”

 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He shook his head vigorously as JB giggled. “Jug, Fred wants to speak with you again.” She extended the phone clasped in her hand over to him, mouthing ‘you’re welcome’ as he scowled at her.

 

“Fred, I-” But before he could finish his thought, Fred cut him off.

 

“I just told JB but I wanted to make sure you knew too, Jug. I’m so excited to meet your girlfriend. I know Mary will be too when I tell her. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you with anyone and the fact that you want to bring her here for Christmas just, I just, ah,” he paused, clearing his throat on the other end of the line. “Sorry, I just couldn’t be happier, son. I can’t wait to see you and meet this mysterious girlfriend. We’ll set an extra plate and make up the guest room with the queen bed so you’ll both be comfortable.”

 

“There’s really no need. I mean I-”

 

“Nonsense, I’m not naive enough to think you’ll sleep in separate rooms. This is your home, Jug. I want you  _ both _ to be comfortable. It is Christmas after all.”

 

“Yeah, uh, thanks, Fred.”

 

“No, thank  _ you _ , Jughead. I can’t even tell you how happy it makes me that you’d want to bring a girl home to meet us. We’ve missed you and knowing you have someone out there by your side makes me feel so much better. Safe travels and we’ll see you in a few days.”

 

With a quick goodbye, he furiously tapped the red button on his screen. As soon as the call was ended he narrowed his eyes and looked up at JB. “What the actual fuck, Jelly?”

 

“What?” she said with feigned innocence. “He sounded really happy.”

 

“Yeah, for now. When I don’t show up with this mystery girlfriend he’s going to be disappointed. I hope you’re happy knowing you’ve ruined Fred and Mary’s Christmas.

 

“Ruined their Christmas?” She laughed then, a wholehearted chuckle that had her gasping for breath by the end of it. “Way to be self-absorbed, dear brother. It won’t ruin their Christmas. Besides, you could ask that pretty blonde elf if she wants to take an all expenses paid trip back to Riverdale for the holidays.” She wiggled her eyebrows and Jughead groaned.

 

“That is  _ not _ happening.”

 

“Ask her, Jug. That was my condition and I held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

-

 

Betty got off work late... again. 

 

She knew she needed the extra money, and even though she truly did love children, she was still counting down to her final shift of the season in just a few days. If she was being fair, being a Christmas Elf wasn’t the worst way to save money and most days were better than the one she’d just had but even still, it was something that she had no intention of ever doing again. 

 

Betty spent most of her days working as a staff writer at a low budget online magazine. It paid her bills, despite being warned how expensive it was to live in New York on her own. She already had three months worth of bills in savings and was arguably not in dire need of her position at the North Pole, but Betty never had been one to turn down an opportunity, and a Craigslist ad for twelve dollars an hour and shifts that worked well with her other schedule was too tempting to pass up. Of course, that was before she found out it was far more than just reciting ‘say jingle bells’ and clicking the camera. 

 

As the days drew closer and closer to Christmas, the lines got longer, the kids fussier, and the parents who attempted to haggle for a package she hadn’t set the price on were becoming even more annoying. Coupled with the extra time beyond her scheduled shift and a very, very needy last customer almost every day, Betty was ready to be home. She swore she’d never be like that with her kids - instructing them to suck in their tummies and hold their heads high while critiquing the exact way they should smile. It all looked so staged through the lens. Her favorite pictures were always the silly ones when no one was looking at the camera and a bust of personality shined on the kids’ faces as they look at the mythical Santa Clause. Pictures like the one earlier that day with the obviously embarrassed but sweet young woman and her handsome older brother. It was people like them who made her smile. She was looking forward to being done with this gig, but at least she had some pleasant experiences to take from it anyway.

 

Shaking those thoughts out of her head, Betty paused as she noticed something new set up in the display window of the same storefront window she’d passed too many times to count. There were a pair of mannequins the exact same height wearing coordinating outfits. The little boy had a baseball cap that read ‘#1 star’ and a pair of overalls with a long-sleeved blue and white striped shirt underneath. The girl had a white t-shirt adorned with a cardigan in the same print and a pair of jeans that matched. To top it all off, the girl had a blue and white bow propped on a display to the side and they were both wearing kids’ converse.

 

They were perfect. Without hesitation, Betty walked into the store and purchased them both, watching as the girl behind the counter folded them neatly before placing them in the bag and handing Betty back her change.

 

Her apartment wasn’t very far, so she decided to walk. It wasn’t quite freezing yet, the ghost of warmth still settled beneath her jacket as she stepped onto the streets. Thankfully she wasn’t still in her Elf costume.

 

As she stepped through her apartment door, clicking it shut, she was greeted by a steady stream of festive tunes still playing from her bedroom. She always had Christmas music on during the holidays, even if it was only in the background. Something about the perfect combination of her warm and cozy apartment and the soft echo of an old, familiar song floating through the air always made it feel more magical. Christmas was always Betty’s favorite time of the year and no amount of screaming children in line for Santa could change that.

 

A buzzing in her pocket interrupted the song. She pulled out her phone to see thee little letters illuminating the screen and sighed.

 

“Hi, Mom!” Betty greeted in the cheeriest voice she could muster.

 

“Betty, listen, I don’t have long but I wanted to let you know we’ve secured a dedicated room for your visit.”

 

“Room? Really?”

 

“Yes, Polly and I talked to Edgar and he said you can have one of the converted stables all to yourself.”

 

“Wait, stables? You - you mean the open areas in the barn? That’s my room?”

 

“Betty, now stop right there. Be grateful we found you a place at such a busy time of year for The Farm. We have so many visitors coming for our Christmas ceremony that it was very hard. Polly and I are stitching gowns for the play as penance for your accommodations. You  _ could _ be more grateful.”

 

“I’m - I’m sorry, mom.” She gulped, trying her hardest to ignore the pang of disappointment threatening to spill over in the form of tears. “Oh! I almost forgot. I picked up the cutest outfits for the twins today. I can’t wait to see their faces when they unwrap their presents.”

 

“No, no, Betty. No presents on Christmas. Attachments to physical things are frowned upon here. How could we possibly give Edgar our all if we’re tied down with affections for objects?”

 

Betty felt her jaw drop. “They’re clothes, Mother.” She barely even registered the bite to her words

 

“This is the way it’s done around here and if that’s not okay with you, why are you even bothering to come?”

 

It was an argument they had often enough. Betty had always been clear that she didn’t really love the fact that her mother and sister had joined what essentially was a cult - but was excused as a commune of like-minded individuals - but she’d never felt this level of hostility from her mother on the subject before.

 

Alice continued, “This is how we live, Elizabeth. If you can’t come to terms with that, maybe you should spend Christmas with your father and his girlfriend wherever they live now. Last I knew the RV was parked in North Dakota.”

 

Tears welled in her eyes as she let her mother’s word sink in. As soon as her parents had separated, he’d taken off to ‘explore’ the world, but only a few months later, ‘exploring’ turned into using his divorce settlement to buy a camper and drive from shitty campsite to shitty campsite across parts of the US no one willingly visited. She absolutely did not want to spend Christmas with her father and what’s her name, the most recent in a string of strange relationships her father seemed to fall into, any more than she wanted to spend it sleeping in a barn in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Fine,” she finally said, pulling the phone back and smashing the red end key as hard as she could.

 

When she finally alone again with only the soft lull of a seasonal tune in the background and her own thoughts running rampant, she let the tears fall.

 

*


	2. December 20th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my wonderful beta @jandjsalmon for all of your input and the use of your sharp eyes. 
> 
> This fic will update every other day! Hope you enjoy!

*

  

It had been four days since that fateful call with Fred and despite two long phone conversations since, he hadn’t had the heart to tell Fred it was an elaborate prank JB had played on him. Somewhere between the talks of new sheets for the guest bed and an extra place setting at the table, Jughead decided he didn’t have it in him to disappoint the closest thing he’d had to a real family his entire life - especially not on Christmas.

 

He was back at the mall, fighting the crowds to find some over-the-top gifts intended to soften the blow of showing up alone. He stood in line at the fancy coffee shop, waiting his turn for a nice steaming cup of caffeine to help him get through the next few hours. When it was finally his turn, he ordered a large Americano, noting he probably needed the extra boost the espresso would provide.

 

Just as he rounded the corner of the food court, he collided with someone, sending his piping hot coffee all over their bags and muttering a low, “Fuck,” under his breath.

 

“OHMIGOD I’M SO SORRY.”

 

“Sorry I-” he looked up to find the blonde from Santa’s workshop looking slightly worse for the wear. She was still beautiful, her hair pooled around her shoulders and her eyes glistening with what he thought were probably tears of frustration. “Shit. Sorry I - I didn’t see you.”

 

“No, no, it’s my fault, really. I’m sorry, I should have been watching where I was going and-”

 

“No, really, It’s my fault. I, uh-” he paused, gesturing toward the bag now covered in coffee. “I can replace those for you. He studied the bag a bit more closely, noticing the Gymboree logo now painted with trails of dark espresso. “Are you... are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” she sniffled, a few rogue tears cresting over her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that, by the way. I was just returning these. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Returning them? Did you need a different size? I could go and buy a new one-”

 

“No, don’t. Please.”

 

Something about the firm set to her voice caught him off guard. “O-okay. At least let me get something to dry them off for you.” He gestured back to the counter and its pile of napkins.

 

She held out the bag and softly said, “Thanks. I’ll go wait over there.”

 

He bounded back to the front of the line at the coffee shop, grabbing as many napkins as he could and patting at the outside of the bag before pulling all of the clothes out on the counter. He carefully wrapped in each one in an abundance of napkins before shoving them in. Grabbing another handful to dry them both, he set off to find her again.

 

When he returned, she was sitting at the table. Her face was in her hands, her shoulders bobbing up and down as she took deep breaths. He slid in across from her and set the pile of bags on the table between them. “I’m sorry again. I wasn’t looking and I should have been and I just-”

 

“Jughead, right?” she sniffled. He nodded in response, not trusting his own voice as she looked at him. Her eyes were impossibly green, shining brighter from the veil of tears and even with pink splotches adorning her cheeks, she was downright gorgeous. “I promise you don’t have to replace them. You can just throw them away for all I care.”

 

“Betty, that sounds awfully melancholy. I thought elves were supposed to be happy.”

 

His attempt to lighten the mood apparently worked as he watched the edges of her lips curl. “I’m officially off duty as of yesterday.”

 

“Oh, no. Did Santa catch you stealing the candy canes?”

 

She laughed lightly, a single chuckle falling from her lips as she shook her head. “No, I was, ugh, you’re probably in a rush. I’m fine. You don’t have to stay.”

 

He watched as she twisted her hands together on the table. It was a nervous tick he knew JB had and instinctively, he reached across the table, placing his palm over her hands. “It’s fine, really. No rush here. I have hours.”

 

“Okay,” she paused to suck in a breath. “I bought them for my niece and nephew because I was supposed to go home for Christmas. I’m off duty because my flight leaves in a few hours, but-” she sniffled, “but they don’t want me to come this year and my sister lives on this compound that she swears isn’t a cult but I think otherwise. Anyway, she and the twins’ father went on and on about how ‘The Farm’ doesn’t celebrate Christmas or material things, or presents or-”

 

He tightened his grip on her hands, swiping his thumb against her knuckles. “Hey, it’s okay. Sounds like you dodged a bullet. Who wants to spend Christmas with a cult anyway, right?”

 

Betty huffed out a breath, a serious expression settling on her features as she said, “Polly and my mom swear it’s not a cult. Mom told me I could sleep in the converted stables or in the communal room - which, by the way, is apparently just a huge room with pillows all over the floor where a ton of people sleep together.”

 

He could’ve sworn she visibly shuddered at the thought. “Anyway, they asked for ‘gifts of love’ because apparently love is the greatest gift any child could get.”

 

“What a load of shit,” he laughed.

 

“Right?! And to make it worse, the kids’ dad is _loaded_. So like, I get it, I do. He grew up with everything he could ever want and still wound up in this damn cult, but kids deserve presents. I even got them clothes to be safe but Polly said they make their own. God, I just - I just wanted to see my niece and nephew and sister and mother but apparently, they’re all so brainwashed that Christmas doesn’t matter. Truth be told, I don’t even want to go anymore. I’d rather spend the holidays holed up in my apartment with Netflix.”

 

“Netflix is a man’s best friend - er, a woman’s too - uh how about a person’s best friend.” He laughs then, at his own ineptitude but it quickly subsides when he notices her smiling at him again. “But Betty,” he says gently, “do you really want to spend Christmas alone?”

 

“I - I - I don’t even know,” she laments, her gaze dropping to the finger he’s still swiping across her knuckles.

 

Only then did he notice his hand was still firmly gripping hers. But he didn’t pull away, simply lightening his grip and clearing his throat. “How about we go over to Gymboree and you let me charm the employees into replacing these? They can’t say no if the clothes just show up in the mail, right?”

 

“Right, but I don’t know how much faith I should put in your ability to charm.”

 

The small tilt of her lips egged him on. “I’ve been told I’m quite charming.”

 

-

 

She was browsing the shelves as he argued with the gum-smacking teenage cashier behind the counter. “Come on, sure I spilled coffee on them but they still have their tags, see!” He held up one of the outfits, pulling at the tag for emphasis. “Just let me return them.”

 

“Nu-uh, no can do.”

 

“Fine, Merry Christmas to you, too. I can tell you’re just filled with holiday spirit.”

 

He turned around, holding the receipt as he looked at the total. She was still wandering down the aisles when he saw her again, her face decidedly less pink this time. He spotted a frilly pink dress, complete with sparkles on the tulle skirt and sequins on the top. Without thinking twice, he grabbed it and went back to the cashier to pay for it, shoving her bag of clothes deep in his own to avoid the embarrassment of admitting he wasn’t quite as charming as he’d hoped.

 

-

 

“I can’t believe they let you return those.”

 

He handed over sixty-three dollars. “I told you I was charming.”

 

She giggled at that, shoving the money into one of her pockets before they turned to walk toward the exit. “Thank you. Seriously, I didn’t need the money back but I appreciate you doing that for me.”

 

“Tis the season, right?”

 

Giggling once more she acquiesced, “right.”

 

He wasn’t quite ready to call it a night, and judging by the way their pace had slowed, he thought she might not be quite ready either.

 

“Who even buys that kind of stuff?” he asked, pointing to the window of the novelty shop where a coffee mug that was oddly shaped like a toilet was on full display, a sign saying $9.99 propped right next to it.

 

She followed his line of sight and he watched as her brows shot up before she turned to him again, this time with a sheen of pink painted across the apples of her cheeks. “Ohmygod,” she laughed. After a long pause and a few more slow, deliberate steps from them both, she finally said, “multi-taskers.”

 

“Multi-taskers buy toilet mugs?”

 

“Well, some people love them both, coffee and, um...” she paused and he could see her blush deepening by the second.

 

“See, you can’t even say it!”

 

“I can, too,” she shot back. “Toilet, see. Some people love it, or eh - them.” Even Betty couldn’t keep a straight face at her reasoning, the smile curling at the edges of her lips before she even finished rationalizing. “Okay, okay. Fine. You’re right. It’s ridiculous.”

 

Despite his best efforts, Jughead couldn’t hold back a smile either as he shook his head. “Do you want a cup of coffee? I mean, I know you’re wearing it and all-”

 

“Shut up,” she jested, bumping her shoulder into his as she ducked her head. “That is your fault, after all. I feel like you owe me one.”

 

One cup of coffee turned into two as the hours passed with whispered theories about the people running frantically around the mall. He’d fill in a detail about the fantasy life he’d create in his own mind about the strangers and she’d follow up with another, leaving him laughing and thoroughly impressed with her ability to think so quickly on her feet.

 

After they’d both had more than their fair share of caffeine and he’d laughed until his cheeks hurt for the first time in longer than he could remember. A thought began to form as they were nearing the exit, and before he could talk himself out of it, he cleared his throat. “Hey, um, you can totally say no and we’ll pretend like this never happened but -” he sucked in a breath, her eyes trained on him, “do you want to come with me to Riverdale and spend Christmas with a family who actually wants to celebrate?”

 

“I - I couldn’t. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone and-”

 

“Betty,” he stopped to reach out and place his hand on her arm, “I’m inviting you. I promise it’s not an inconvenience. But if you don’t want to, I can-”

 

“No, I mean, I want to. I do. I just, we don’t really know each other.” He watched as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it in concentration as her eyes skated over his features. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll drive us. It’ll only be for a few days but if you want to, I’m - I would like it if you came.”

 

“Really?” The genuine question in her tone made his heart clench in his chest.

 

“Yes, really. I don’t make it a habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

 

“When are you leaving?”

 

“Tomorrow at 9 am. I can pick you up or you can meet me somewhere. I just live a few miles from here.”

 

“I can text you my address. But Jughead, I have one condition.”

 

“A condition? Geez, you and my sister and your conditions.”

 

Despite the questioning look on her face, she said, “I want to meet the little princess you bought that pink dress for.”

 

He huffed out a breath and grinned. “Deal,” slipping out effortlessly.

 

Before he fell asleep that night, he made sure to text his sister that she’d gotten her wish. Never one to simply concede, he added just a tad of his signature snark to the short message.

 

_Jughead: Your wish is my command, dear sister. I asked out the elf. Happy now?_

 

When he awoke the next morning, she’d texted him back.

 

_JB: I knew you had it in you._

 

-

 

When she finally got home that night, Betty swapped her coffee stained clothes for a pair of her favorite pajamas and settled in on her couch. Pulling up the On-Demand guide, she browsed the featured movies of the month and settled on a holiday-themed film she hadn’t seen before.

 

Melissa Joan Hart, or ‘Sabrina’ as Betty would forever refer to her as, and Mario Lopez had her laughing within the hour at their antics in _Holiday in Handcuffs_. Not that she’d be able to take much from it, it wasn’t as though she was kidnapping Jughead and taking him to The Farm, but the guise of total strangers meeting the parents had her studying their reception to the stranger. She hoped Jughead’s family would be half as welcoming as the main character’s had been and she found herself musing over the possibilities of the coming days.

 

Spending Christmas with total strangers wasn’t something she ever would have planned, but the perfect storm of her mother’s insanity and no other options besides spending Christmas alone had pushed her to say yes to his proposal.

 

She’d said yes to his random invitation to travel a few hours away for nearly a week. It probably wasn’t the wisest choice she’d ever made, but something about it felt almost exhilarating. Maybe it was the draw of a normal Christmas for the first time in years, maybe it was the hopeful glint in his eyes when he asked, or maybe she was just as impulsive as the rest of her family seemed lately.

 

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, halting that particular line of thought when _Kevin_ flashed across the screen.

 

“Hey, Kev.”

 

“Hello, my beautiful blonde best friend. Are you getting in the Christmas spirit, yet?”

 

“Funny story, I’m watching _Holiday in Handcuffs_ right now with a cup of hot cocoa and reindeer pajamas on, so yes. What are you and Joaquin doing this year?” She knew if she hadn’t followed it up with a question, he would’ve asked her the same thing.

 

Kevin went on and on about their upcoming trip to visit his father. Sheriff Keller, as she’d always known him was surprisingly accepting when his son first came out. And even more surprisingly he’d welcomed his son’s ex-gang member boyfriend with open arms every holiday since.

 

“What about you? Alice and Polly planning to brainwash you in a matter of days?”

 

“Not exactly.” She paused, hesitant to divulge the absolutely crazy turn the looming holiday was going to take for her. “I’m - I’m going to a friend’s house.”

 

“Oooh, a friend? Do tell.”

 

“Nothing to tell, Kev. He’s a friend I met at work,” which wasn’t entirely a lie, “and he asked if I wanted to go home with him.”

 

“That sounds absolutely nothing like the Betty Cooper I know. I’m going to need more details.”

 

“Fine,” she conceded. Over the next few minutes, she filled him in on Alice’s latest antics and the awful phone call a few days before, glossing over any and all details about Jughead and focusing instead on her desire to have company. When he ‘awwed’ at the end and insisted she send pictures at some point during the trip, she reluctantly agreed, knowing full well if she hadn’t, she’d never hear the end of it.

 

She hadn’t paused the movie when he’d called and by the time they hung up, the final sequence was playing. It showed the two characters who’d been at such odds sharing a sweet kiss. She felt a tug in her chest, a longing she didn’t really want to admit settling deep with her as the screen faded to black.

 

It was only for a few days. Five days total including the trip up and back. She could do this. Simply being in the proximity of an attractive male who showed her kindness absolutely would not reduce her to a pining teenager. She’d make sure of it.

 

It wasn’t as though he was interested in her anyway, she reasoned. Anyone who came across her in the state he had would’ve done the same. Reflecting back, she’d been an absolute mess. It wasn’t until she got home earlier that she realized she’d had mascara pooled beneath her eyes and a distinctly raccoon-like appearance before her embarrassing bout of word vomit.

 

With her phone still in her hand, she pulled up the newly entered contact and began typing her address. Out of instinct, she added _‘can’t wait to see you’_ before quickly deleting the addition. Next, she tried _‘thanks’_ but even that singular word made her feel like a charity case - and she was no such thing.

 

After thirty minutes of trying to draft a message that was both simple and friendly, she settled on a smiley face, pressing send before she could doubt herself into oblivion. But when she read the message back in its little bubble on the screen, she thought the smiley seemed childish. Wishing she could delete it again, she locked her phone and got ready for bed instead, busying her hands to keep her mind preoccupied from the stupid text that she wanted so badly to delete.

 

-

 

The next morning, her alarm went off right on time. After a basic breakfast of plain whole wheat toast and egg whites, the same one her mother had always insisted she eat in high school, and a steaming hot shower, she pulled out her bag and began packing, still wrapped in only a white towel as she carefully collected her wardrobe.

 

Never one to be underprepared, she packed nearly double of everything a five-day trip would require. She reasoned she’d need layers and at least one or two nicer outfits. Her pajamas, pants, shirts, and tanks were all fully loaded when she turned to her underwear drawer. Even in the privacy of her own apartment, with absolutely no one looking on, she could feel a blush creep onto her cheeks as she stared at her options. There were the classic white panties she wore for her day-to-day in various cuts - boyshorts, thongs, and bikini. She grabbed seven pairs and hastily shoved them in the bag. Then she found herself fiddling with a lacy black one she’d bought just last month and hadn’t yet had the chance to wear. When she picked it up with its corresponding bra, she told herself it was only because of the black dress already nestled in the bag. Another pink lacy set and a festive red one with candy canes made it in the bag before she pulled out a few comfortable bras and methodically moved onto socks and footwear.

 

The last thing was her bathroom bag. Unsure of exactly what was in store, she packed everything she thought she might need under any given circumstance. Hairspray, mousse, two brushes, a flat iron, and a hairdryer later, she pulled out a second bag and acquiesced that she simply wouldn’t be able to fit it all in one as she’d hoped.

 

She didn’t want to come off as some high maintenance girl, lugging around tons of bags for a relatively short trip, but her will to be prepared won out. And two bags, she reasoned, didn’t quite mean high maintenance, it simply meant she was well organized and that was something she could deal with being labeled.

 

Before she descended the steps at 8:40, she turned off her radio for the first time in weeks and checked the locks on every window in the apartment. When the deadbolt locked with a loud click, she took a deep breath, gripping her bags and turning toward the elevator.

 

 _Here goes nothing,_ she mused.

 

*


	3. December 21st

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my rockstar of a beta jandjsalmon for taking the time to look over this!

*****

 

They’d exchanged numbers before parting ways the day before and she’d texted him immediately after that with her address and a smiley. He tried his hardest not to stare at it too many times but had failed miserably. Even though she had agreed to go home with him for the holidays, he hadn’t warned her that they’d think she was his girlfriend and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. 

 

As his truck came to a stop in front of her building, he saw her pushing through the doors with a bag over her shoulder and suitcases rattling behind her, protesting as they bounced from side to side. He got out quickly, retrieving her bags and hauling them into the bed of the truck. 

 

“Good morning!” Her smile was bright, not even a hint of the apprehension he’d seen the day before to be found.

 

“Morning, I got us coffee. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

-

 

It had been about an hour since they’d hit the highway, only two more to go before the tell-tale sign welcoming them to ‘Riverdale: The Town with Pep!’ would greet them and there were two very important topics he had yet to broach with her.

 

Clearing his throat he said, “So, I know it’s a bit late in the game to mention this, but you gave me your condition and I kinda have one of my own.”

 

“Okay,” she said tentatively. 

 

He could feel the weight of her gaze on him as he took a deep breath. “You met my sister, Jellybean.” He saw Betty nod out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Is she going to be there? She was spunky, I think I like her.”

 

“No, no, she’s not. She’s back in Toledo with our mom.”

 

“Okayyyy, so are we going to see your dad, then?”

 

“Not exactly. Uh, long story short, I didn’t really grow up with my parents. They weren’t around much but I lived with the Andrews. Their son, Archie, has been my best friend since we were in diapers and we’re going to his parents’ house. I promise it’ll be a lot more fun than spending it with any of my relatives.”

 

“Okay, I’m following. What’s this condition?”

 

“Well, JB may have told them I had a girlfriend.”

 

“And do you?”

 

“What? No, no. I definitely do not.”

 

“Okayyy,” her voice drawled out the last syllable, causing his voice to catch in his throat. “Am I supposed to be said girlfriend?”

 

“You sure are observant,” he joked. “Kind of? I mean you can say no, I can figure out something else to tell them and we can just-”

 

“No, it’s fine. I mean you’re taking me to Riverdale to celebrate Christmas, the least I could do is pretend to be your doting girlfriend. It can’t be that hard, right? We’ll just hold hands and play nice in front of them. Easy enough.”

 

“Easy enough,” he echoed, his hands gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter. “I mean I don’t like to lie. I want you to know that, but Fred was just so excited and if there’s one thing I hate more than lying, it’s disappointing him. I know this looks bad and I feel like I’ve conned you into it. If you-”

 

“Jughead,” she said firmly, reaching over to place her hand on his arm just as he had done to her the day before. “It’s fine. I promise. Pretending to be your - well, there are much worse things you could have asked for. Besides, I’m looking forward to having a real Christmas for the first time in years. I appreciate this.”

 

-

 

She’d been the one to bring it up, the ‘get to know each other so we don’t come off as total strangers’ thing and he hadn’t regretted the game of twenty questions that turned into thirty than forty until she’d asked her last question. “When did you first kiss me?”

 

“Oh, I kissed you first? Why couldn’t you have kissed me?”

 

“Fair enough, I kissed you first. Where were we?”

 

“Your apartment?”

 

“Oh, how presumptuous of me to invite you into my apartment then kiss you,” she joked. “I must be very forward.”

 

“I’ve always liked a girl who takes initiative.”

 

“Noted.”

 

They continued on, asking about favorite colors, childhood memories, and everything in between. By the time they’d arrived in Riverdale, he knew she despised pink, had been in New York for a few years, and used to be a cheerleader - among many, many other things. 

 

“This is cute,” she mused, pointing at the welcome sign as they rolled on by. “No offense, but you don’t seem very peppy for your hometown to be called ‘The Town with Pep’.”

 

“See you don’t know this, Betty, but that was the highest compliment you could’ve given me.”

 

She giggled again, that soft melodious sound that had him itching to make her do it over and over again. The muted glow of the neon Pop’s sign beckoned him. “Can we make a stop really quick? I’m starving.”

 

She nodded in approval, her eyes fixed out the window as she looked around at the town he would forever call home.

 

-

 

“Oh my god,” she moaned, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself twitch against the rough material of his jeans at the sound. “This is the  _ best  _ burger I’ve ever had.”

 

“I told you, Pop’s is legendary around these parts. I can never come home without stopping in here first. I wanted you to meet Pop but he seems to be out right now.”

 

“Maybe another time,” she said, wiping a spot of ketchup from the corner of her mouth and reaching forward to take the first sip of the strawberry milkshake he’d insisted she order. Another moan slipped between the lips wrapped firmly around her straw. “This is heavenly, Juggie.”

 

Even though they’d discussed nicknames, even though Juggie was his suggestion and Betts was hers, hearing the name so casually on her lips did things to him. Things he wasn’t very proud of, but things he couldn’t stop even if he tried - and he was trying, at least he told himself he was and that had to count for something

 

-

 

Fred and Mary met them at the truck, wrapping their four arms around both Betty and Jughead for a lingering group hug. “It’s so good to have you home, Jug. Thanks for making the trip.”

 

As they parted, Betty shuffled back to his side. “And you must be the infamous girlfriend he’s told us about!”

 

“Yeah,” Jughead wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “This is Betty. Betty, meet Fred and Mary Andrews.”

 

“Hi, it is so nice to meet you.” Tilting her head up to look at him, she said, “Juggie’s told me so much about you both. Thank you for having me.”

 

-

 

They’d settled in easily, dropping their bags by the door and finding a spot on the couch. At first, he’d sat a foot away from her before scooting over and throwing his arm across the back of the couch. After only a few minutes, she snuggled against his chest and looked up to wink, playing her part arguably a bit too well. They stay like that until  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ ends.

 

He saw the beginnings of snow gently falling from the sky and nudged her to look, too. “I love snow.” From her place against his chest, her breath was hot on his neck. “Can we go outside?” she asked.

 

“Let’s change into some thicker clothes and then we’ll take a walk around Riverdale. You don’t mind do you, Fred?”

 

Fred shook his head, sitting in the recliner just a few feet over, Mary on his other side in her own reclining chair. “Not at all. You know where your room is, grab your bags and take them up with you.”

 

He got off the couch, reaching his hand forward to capture hers and pull her up, too. She giggled as she said, “lead the way.” And as much as he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help overhearing a soft ‘aw’ echoing between Fred and Mary just behind him.

 

They made it up the stairs without incident, Betty ahead of him as he carried the bags up each step before pointing to the last door on the right when she’d looked a little lost at the top. 

 

“So,” she began as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, “one room.”

 

“One room,” he echoed. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”

 

“Oh, no. I can take the floor, I’m the one who crashed your trip and I really don’t mi-”

 

“Nonsense, I’ve done it before, on this very floor actually. I’ll sleep on the floor. Take the bed, Betty,” his tone was gentle with a bit of an edge. She must have realized he wasn’t taking no for an answer because she finally said, “fine,” only to follow it up with, “you can having the comforter,” as though she wasn’t entirely giving in to hoarding all the comfort while they slept.

 

-

 

He couldn’t feel his toes - or his fingers, for that matter. He was sure she couldn’t feel hers either. Despite the heavy-duty snow boots and thick jackets on the outside of multiple layers each, the bitter chill in the wind was winning out.

 

“So, I’ve seen the high school, the old drive-in, Pop’s, the Andrews house, and the train tracks, what else does this peppy town have to offer?”

 

He laughed at that, as though she hadn’t just reduced down the few highlights of the town that had shaped who he was to a small five bullet list. But she wasn’t wrong. “Not a whole lot, to be honest.” 

 

Jughead’s affinity for a physical location was rare. Having the bouts of instability between his mother and father’s divorce, winding up in a group home for a week before landing in the Andrews’ guest room for the remainder of his high school years - none of it had sold him on feeling attached to many physical places. And most of the ones he held dear were uttered just moments before in quick succession.

 

“There’s got to be somewhere else we can go, the snow’s just starting to pick up and I really want to go somewhere beautiful to watch the flakes fall. Where’s the most scenic spot in town?”

 

“On the banks of the Sweetwater River,” he answered automatically.

 

Her eyes were shining as she nodded vigorously. He tilted his head in its direction and she reached out, grasping his wrist and tugging him along. 

 

-

 

She looked so happy, hands cupped and extended, trying to catch a snowflake as it fell. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets.  _ She has to be cold _ , he thought,  _ she’s not even wearing gloves.  _

 

“Are you almost ready?” he called through chattering teeth.

 

“Not quite,” she said. “Just a few more minutes.”

 

His feet carried him over to her, his hand settling on the small of her back to steady her as she bounced on her tiptoes in anticipation, her hands still cupped and extended skyward. She leaned forward a bit too far, losing her footing as his arm circled her waist. “Oops,” she breathed, her chest heaving as his arms tightened around her waist. She brought her hands down between them. Just below the reddened tips of her fingers was a large singular snowflake, melting quickly against the skin he was sure was anything but warm. “It’s so beautiful, Jug”

 

His eyes bounced from her hands to her face, the smile he found brimming on her cheeks was nearly blinding as he said, “It is.”

 

-

 

A strong smell was wafting from the kitchen, permeating the air as he looked at Betty only to find her brows drawn together, too. “What is that?”

 

“It smells like something’s burning,” he said, her head still settled on his chest and his arm still thrown around her shoulders as Miracle on 34th Street played. It only took a second for her mouth to drop open and them both to leap off the couch. 

 

“Fred?” he called, shuffling around the sofa and into the kitchen. “Everything alright here?”

 

But it was clear everything was far from alright when the oven door opened and smoke plumed into the room. 

 

“I don’t think we’re having meatloaf tonight, kids,” he coughed.

 

-

 

Betty was nothing if not an excellent chef. She’d discovered a love for baking early on and supplied the town’s bake sales with scrumptious options since she was only six. Her love for cooking had come later. After she’d moved to the big city for college, the freedom of creating her own menu was too enticing to pass up. Between random pinned recipes she’d have to try and her mother’s old cookbook, soon she’d taken to the variety of making her own food. And she’d been good at it, too. Betty had never met a recipe she didn’t get along - save for an unfortunate sugar-free strawberry cake a few years prior, and to this day, she’d insist it must’ve been wrong. 

 

“I can cook dinner if you want,” she volunteered from Jughead’s side. The helpless look on Fred’s face was endearing and she found herself smiling as she said, “It’s really no trouble. I love to cook.”

 

“I don’t think we quite have the time to start from scratch for dinner,” he said, tipping his head to the clock that read 8:55 pm. “But I might take you up on that for Christmas Eve dinner with my son and his family.”

 

“I’d love that.” She found that she genuinely meant it when the words fell from her smiling lips, and even more so when Jughead bumped her hip with his own.

 

“Sorry, Betty.” Fred shook his head. “Mary works long hours at the law firm and my construction company keeps me pretty busy most day so our meals are more of the frozen variety. When it’s time to cook for the holidays, I’m always a little rusty.”

 

“It’s no trouble at all, Mr. Andrews.”

 

“Please, call me Fred. It’s nice to have you here, Betty. Thank you for coming.”

 

She looked over to Jughead as Fred pulled the still smoking pan from the oven. “Thanks for having me,” she said more to Fred than Jughead, but the way he smiled at her, without a watchful eye on them had her heart beating just a bit faster in her chest.

 

-

 

“You two stop right there.” Mary’s voice had them doing just that, pausing in the kitchen doorway as Fred tossed the now empty pizza boxes in the trash. “Mistletoe.”

 

Their eyes flicked upward, hers falling the same time as his as she sucked in a breath. She had to kiss him. She was supposed to be his girlfriend, after all, and girlfriends kissed their boyfriends. He raised his brows slightly leaning forward just a hair as she nodded and did the same. When their lips met, it was brief, a quick peck for the pairs of eyes trained on them. It was all for show, but it was soft and sweet, and the gentle pressure of his lips against hers lingered after he leaned back with his eyes still locked on her own, a strange look settling on his features.

 

“I think we’re pretty tired. Good night and thanks again for having us. We’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Good night,” she echoed, waving over her shoulder before following him to their room.

 

He let her use the bathroom first. She made sure to say, “Thanks,” on her way past him with pajamas and her bathroom bag in tow. Once inside the modest bathroom, she quickly scrubbed her face, rinsing it with warm water before brushing her teeth and taking a quick shower. The hot water warmed her to the bone, soothing a chill from earlier she hadn’t quite shaken. 

 

Wrapped in a fluffy towel she looked over her choice of pajamas. Looking back on it now, the fuzzy pink pants printed with snowmen  _ were _ cute, but cute wasn’t exactly what she was going for anymore. She fiddled with the matching white tank top complete with a full snowman stamped on the front for a moment, twisting the fabric between her fingers and having the bra vs no bra debate in her head. Not wearing a bra may send the wrong message. Though a brief flash of ‘why not’ passed through her mind before she shook her head. Wearing a bra to sleep was extremely uncomfortable, she reasoned. And if she wore it only to pull it off later, which was entirely possible, a particular skill she was sure many women possessed, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea to have it just laying around when they woke up.

 

In a moment of confidence, she wrapped up her bra in the dirty clothes from earlier before pulling the tank top over her head and fanning her hair out from under it.  The fabric was thicker than most tank tops and it wasn’t transparent. She inspected herself in the mirror, fingers playing with the edges of the snowman print that definitely didn’t cover the peaks of her nipples. So what if he could see their outlines? If he was looking, she wasn’t entirely opposed. She was quickly growing fond of him, from the sheepish manner he’d wordlessly asked to kiss her earlier, and the way his eyes had held hers for the seconds afterward, she thought he might just be a little fond of her, too.

 

He was hunched over the DVD player by the far wall, dropping a movie in before closing the tray and pushing play. It had been plenty of time for her to crawl up into the bed and pull the covers up to her shoulders. “Sorry, it’s a little cold.”

 

“It’s fine. Go get changed, I’ll be right here.”

 

-

 

A soft crooning melody was playing on the tv, a picturesque fire illuminating the screen. He’d put on Christmas music with a yule log and she couldn’t help but smile as she laid back on the plush bed and stretched out. This was absolutely not what she’d had in mind days ago as a Christmas vacation, but, she reasoned, there were far worse places to be. 

 

When he returned from the bathroom, dark strands of hair still dripping wet, Elvis was serenading them with  _ Blue Christmas _ and the log was crackling softly alongside. “Hey.” In a few short steps, he was by the bed, dropping onto the end and writing his hair with the towel.

 

“Hi,” she returned, feeling absolutely ridiculous for not coming up with something better to say but far too distracted by the way his eyes lingered on the top of the snowman visible behind the covers. “Festive pajamas?”

 

“Festive music?” she countered, arching a brow in his direction as he hung the towel on the bedframe and shook his head.

 

“Okay, you got me. I’m not the most spirited person in the world but Fred and Mary left a yule log DVD in here so I thought it would be mean not to indulge them.”

 

“I don’t mind in the least.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “So, um, I can go grab a blanket from the-”

 

“No, oh, no. Really there’s no need,” she said, shuffling around on the bed to grab a few pillows before realizing she’d released the blanket and was practically on display, twisting to the side. “Here,” she said softly. “I know you already said no to sleeping up here, but the offer still stands. I also promised you the comforter.” The words  _ ‘we could share’  _ itching to escape.

 

“Nah, I’m fine without it. They have this blanket I really love and I’m sure it’ll do the job.”

 

“Jughead,” she attempted to protest, but as he got up, she realized she wasn’t going to win this one.

 

-

 

Darkness coated the unfamiliar room when she woke up. The TV must’ve shut off at some point after they’d both fallen asleep. She could hear the steady breaths in, then out, then in again as he slept soundly at the foot of the bed. Only then did she realize what’d woken her - her bladder.

 

She held her breath as she attempted to tiptoe around him while bouncing on the balls of her feet and navigating through the room. Once over the threshold, she shut it quietly and quickly relieved herself. Before she opened the door again, she shut her eyes tightly and turned off the light. It was a trick Polly had taught her years before - your eyes adjust faster if you open them once the room’s already dark. 

 

Tiptoeing back in, she questioned how well that trick actually worked as the pad of her foot pressed on something soft, sending her grasping for something to hold onto and bracing for the shock of the wood floor against her ass. 

 

But it didn’t come. 

 

The trajectory of her fall wasn’t entirely straight, she landed across his sleeping form and heard a small gasp followed by, ‘fuck,’ as she attempted to get up.

 

“I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean. Gah, I’m sorr-”

 

“It’s okay,” he coaxed, voice still thick with sleep as he rolled around on the floor and she got back to her feet. 

 

She took the final few steps toward the bed without incident, muttering a string of apologies along the way. In mere moments she heard the soft rise and fall of a light snore and she allowed her lids to slip closed as she mentally chastised herself until sleep finally came.

  
  


*


	4. December 22nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always to @jandjsalmon for keeping up with this insane update every other day schedule! She's simply incredible.
> 
> For @sunlitgarden, i hope you continue to see some cute little bits from your asks sprinkled into the chapters as they progress!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone reading along with these updates. I know it's not Christmas anymore so I appreciate your interest lol.

 

*

 

Jughead awoke to the pitter patter of water splashing against the glass shower doors in the bathroom a few feet away. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he sat up slowly, surveying the room only to find it entirely empty. The next thought that registered was it must be Betty in the shower, followed closely by an image he’d never admit to conjuring - Betty, naked, covered in suds, her hair cascading down her back as droplets of water left glistening trails in their wake. He’d caught a glimpse the night before when she was in her pajamas. He’d tried his hardest not to look but just like with his current train of thought, his baser instincts had embarrassingly kicked in and left him thankful he’d been covered up enough for her not to notice.

 

He groaned, hoisting himself off the floor and rummaging through his bag while he still had a modicum of privacy to get dressed. As soon as his hand landed on the soft, worn cotton of his favorite t-shirt, he heard the squeak of the shower faucet as the sounds of the running water ceased. Hopping out of his pants and tugging his shirt over his head as quickly as possible, he raced the soft sound of her padding through the bathroom to get dressed before she came out.

 

He snapped the button on his jeans and grabbed the shirt just as he heard the soft click of the bathroom door unlocking. In a rush, he turned around and pulled the shirt over his head just in time for Betty to step in the room. 

 

“Oh, sorry. I thought you’d still be sleeping,” she said as he tugged the hem down around his waist. “Is that?” she asked, pointing to his side. 

 

He pulled the shirt back up, and sure enough, it was - a patch of bruised skin adorned the side of his torso courtesy of her foot the night before. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he laughed. “It’s not a big deal.” 

 

Pulling the shirt back down, he watched her carefully pad over to her bag sitting open on the bed. Her eyes bounced between the luggage bag and the floor, her dirty clothes wrapped in a ball with only the shirt visible. “Um, do you think Mary and Fred have a bag I could use for my dirty clothes?”

 

“There’s a hamper over there. You can just leave them there and I’ll do a load tomorrow if you want.”

 

“Oh, Jughead. You really don’t have to do that. I packed enough to not need to wash anything.”

 

“Betty,” he said, taking the few steps over to stand by her side, “I promise it’s no trouble. I’m well acquainted with their washer and dryer.”

 

She looked at them, the ball of clothes still firmly in her grip as he reached forward to take them from her. “Are - are you sure?” she asked as he scooped up the pile sitting in the corner, too. 

 

“Positive.”

 

Somehow, he hadn’t grabbed the pile quite right and it all went toppling down about halfway to the basket on the opposite side of the room. “Shit, sorry,” he muttered, bending down to try and gather them all up again. It was only when she came to his side, reaching forward to grab a few things that he realized what she had done. Apparently, each pile had her bra and panties wrapped inside and something about the gesture had a blush rising on his cheeks as he carefully grabbed the discarded items he wasn’t embarrassed to touch, leaving the panties and bras to her.

 

“It’s okay,” she murmured, picking up the last lacy thing on the floor and following him to the hamper.

 

He let his eyes linger for a moment too long on the intricate lace details of the white bra that had wound up on top, only realizing his faux pas when she cleared her throat and said, “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

 

-

 

Jughead had a mouthful of scrambled eggs when Mary asked a question they’d both prepared for, but he found himself nervous to answer nonetheless.

 

“So how did you guys meet?”

 

He chewed slowly, turning to look at Betty by his side whose eyes were wide as she searched his for a cue. “Uh,” she cleared her throat, swallowing her bite of fruit before scooting over to him and looping an arm through his, “mutual friends.”

 

He wanted to laugh at the foreign octave of her voice, a bit too high to be believable, but instead, he took the lead. “I asked her out three times before she said yes.”

 

Mary and Fred both laughed at that. 

 

He then launched into the rehearsed story about their first date at a fancy restaurant, adding that he thought Pop’s was a much better value for his dollar than the disappointing Italian place had been. “And when I walked her home that night,” he looked over to find her eyes fixed on his before continuing, “I kissed her on the steps to her apartment.”

 

Part of him wished she’d picked up on the wistful lilt to his words, part of him hoped she hadn’t, but what he hadn’t been expecting was for her to press her lips to his in a chaste kiss. “It was the best date I’d ever been on,” she murmured, their gazes locked for only a moment - a moment that felt as though it was dragging on, a moment when they weren’t in the Andrews’ kitchen, they weren’t playing their parts. In that fraction of a moment they were just Betty and Jughead, just cuddling at the kitchen table, and basking in the warmth the embrace brought them both.

 

Mary cleared her throat as she got up. “I think that’s adorable, don’t you, Fred?”

 

“Who knew Jug here was such a romantic?”

 

“Oh he is,” Betty cooed and Jughead felt his face heat up again.

 

-

 

They’d gone into town for a few hours and returned in the late afternoon with his truck bed stuffed with various bags filled to the brim with ingredients for their upcoming dinner. Betty had surveyed the kitchen and its contents before they left and cataloged exactly what she needed in crisp, lilting cursive on a piece of paper that now lay discarded and scratched off in between them. When they pulled up to the Andrews’ house, they noticed Fred’s truck was gone. Thankfully, as he walked up the steps with all but two of the bags dangling off his arms, the door was open.

 

“Hello? Anyone home?” she called, following behind with the eggs and bread she’d insisted would be ruined if he’d carried them along with all of the others.

 

“Huh, I guess they went out.”

 

Unpacking the bags was easy, pulling out the litany of random ingredients and directing her through the kitchen as to where they belonged. He noticed she was a quick study and smiled to himself as she reached up on her tiptoes to place a bag of flour on the very top shelf. With a triumphant smile, she turned around to face him and said, “Done. Are you hungry?”

 

“Betty, you literally never have to ask me that. The answer will always be yes.”

 

“Good. Give me just a little bit and I’ll make us something for lunch.”

 

She shooed him out of the kitchen with a soft smile and a promise of something delicious. Ascending the stairs, he didn’t try and hide the stupid smile he could feel affixed to his lips. He surveyed their room, scooping up any discarded clothes that hadn’t made it into the hamper earlier and gathering everything to take to the washer. He paused by his bag, reaching in and retrieving the Gymboree bag he’d brought along. He’d remembered, standing in the children’s clothing store all of the times Mary had magically made the grass stains and spots of ketchup on the boys’ clothes disappear. He tucked it under a few things in the hamper and made his way down to the utility room.

 

Apparently, Fred and Mary had come home during his brief visit upstairs. He could hear the distinct bellow of Fred’s laugh from the kitchen followed soon after by the sound of Betty’s giggle. Again, with no eyes on him, he let the grin break across his cheeks as he fumbled with the clothes, separating them into piles and assessing how many loads he’d need to do. 

 

“Jug?” Mary’s voice called from the hallway.

 

“In here.”

 

He was greeted by a warm smile painted on Mary’s features, the same look of adoration he’d cherished for years. “Hey, uh, can you help me real quick?”

 

“Of course, Jug.”

 

-

 

Later that evening, with a tray holding four mugs of hot chocolate topped with the snowflake marshmallows she’d pick up on a whim, Betty walked into the living room and served everyone dessert.

 

“You’re supposed to be our guest, Betty.” Something about Fred’s vague protest was endearing to her.

 

“I know,” she said, “and I wanted to do something for you guys.”

 

“First grocery shopping, now this, and in just a few days, you’re going to be cooking our Christmas dinner, Betty.” Mary smiled as she took the mug of hot cocoa.

 

“It’s nothing really,” she insisted, giving Jughead the final two mugs before settling on the couch next to him.

 

“Isn’t she something?” Jughead asked, a hint of what she thought might be affection sprinkled in his simple words.

 

“She is,” Fred and Mary both agreed.

 

When she titled the mug to her lips, she hoped it was hiding the smile she couldn’t seem to shake.

 

They discussed the upcoming days, the loose schedule for Archie and Veronica’s visit on Christmas Eve and what they had planned for Christmas morning. All the while, Betty felt herself drifting closer to Jughead, her head eventually leaning on his shoulder as she yawned. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the simple domesticity of the last few nights, all spent around the fire with festive movies playing on loop had her missing her own family.

 

Only when Jughead looked down at her with his lips tilted in a smile as he pressed a kiss to her temple did it subside.

 

-

 

They’d both mastered the bathroom routine. She went first, changing this time into a pair of red and white printed shorts and a red tank top to match. Sure, they were just a little bit short, but she didn’t mind and a part of her hoped Jughead wouldn’t either. The lingering stares and brushes of his hands against various parts of her - her arm, the small of her back, her thigh as they cuddled on the couch - they’d all had her body buzzing at the contact. It was strange, really, Betty hadn’t had a crush on anyone in years and she felt like a giddy school girl every time their eyes met. She  _ wanted _ him, but a larger part of her wanted him to want her, too. Affections meant very little when they weren’t returned and she’d had her fair share of those scenarios, too. Including but not limited to an embarrassingly long crush she’d harbored on her football star of a neighbor all throughout high school. He’d ended up screwing anything with a skirt while stringing her along and when he’d finally shown interested, she’d developed a sense of self-worth that had her turning him down without hesitation.

 

She stepped out into the room to find him hunched over the DVD player again, fiddling with the case of some movie she couldn’t quite see. “I think I broke it,” he said sheepishly.

 

“I’ll mess with it if you want. The bathroom’s all yours.”

 

“Good luck, Betts. It’s got a mind of its own.”

 

She giggled at that, watching him disappear behind the door before she heard the squeak of the shower faucet being turned. The TV shared a wall with the shower, and the distinct sound of him stepping in and pulling the curtains had her mind wandering to forbidden territory. It wasn’t until she heard the squeak again a little while later followed by him stepping out that she finally gave up and tried tuning the TV instead. 

 

By the time he came back into the room, she’d found a channel dedicated to the season with Christmas movies playing on loop. 

 

“Did it defeat you, too?”

 

When she turned to look, she hoped he didn’t notice the way her eyes lingered on his arms, his chest, the way the simple white ribbed tank clung to the still dewy skin of his abdomen.

 

“Well?” he asked, snapping her out of the embarrassing way she’d just been ogling him.

 

“It did,” she acquiesced. “Technology isn’t my strong suit. Give me a screwdriver and a wrench and I can rebuild a car but this DVD player has officially outsmarted one Betty Cooper.”

 

“It outsmarted me too, Betts. No shame here.” She giggled before he spoke again, still hovering in the doorway to the bathroom. “So you work on cars?”

 

“Sometimes. My dad taught me how to years ago. We used to own a garage until,” she paused, how much did she really care to share with him? After realizing she’d already painted the ugly truth with her tears in the mall food court just days before, she continued, “until the divorce. They sold every piece of property and he bought a camper that’s apparently now stationed in North Dakota with Heather.”

 

“Heather?” It was adorable the way he arched one brow at her.

 

“Heather,” she repeated, “his girlfriend.”

 

“Ah. Well, my dad used to work on bikes but I never did have the black thumb.”

 

“Black thumb?”

 

“You know, gardeners have green thumbs so mechanics have black thumbs.” She blinked once, feeling her lips twist up and betray her amusement. “Black like grease, duh. That’s totally a thing.”

 

“Not a thing,” she corrected fondly. “Not a thing at all.”

  
“Well, whatever. You get the idea.”

 

She realized she was standing on his ‘bed’ and quickly shuffled over to her own. “Sorry. You could have asked me to move.”

 

“I know, but you looked kinda cute when you were confused.”

 

“Sure.” Betty could feel a flush seeping onto her cheeks at his words. So, he thought she was cute. She thought he was pretty cute, too.

 

-

 

They watched  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ in its entirety for the second time in as many days, a soft yawn sounding from his spot on the floor. “Juggie,” she called, rewarded by the sight of his now dry locks peeking out above the mattress. “Why don’t you just sleep up here?”

 

“Betty, I’m fine. I swear.”

 

“Come on, I promise I don’t bite.”

 

In that instant, she wanted to cram each and every word she’d just said right back in her mouth and swallow them down as if they’d never existed.

 

“I mean-” she attempted to recover. “I mean, uh,” she paused.

 

“It’s okay, Betty, really. As long as there isn’t another midnight stampede I’m fine.”

 

She huffed out a breath. “No promises.”

 

“And by the way,” he started as she looked on in anticipation. “I don’t mind biting.”

 

“Ohmigod,” she mumbled, spinning around to hide the burn in her cheeks.

 

She heard him laugh as she pulled back the covers, slipping in just as a thumping sound came from the door - which she quickly realized, was unlocked and inching open. “Betty… Jughead…” she heard Mary whisper.

 

By the time Mary’s eyes rounded the door, Jughead had already scaled the bed and settled on top of the sheets next to her, tossing his pillow to the side with the comforter still clutched in his hand. 

 

Mary tilted her head to the side, a lopsided smile tugging at one corner. “Aren’t you two cold? Make sure he shares that blanket with you, Betty,” she teased.

 

“He always does,” Betty said with a smile.

 

“Jughead, do you mind coming out into the hall for a moment? I’ve got your laundry.”

 

If anyone had asked, she wouldn’t blame it on the stupid white tank top, the thin material molding to his chest made her mind do funny things. He returned only a moment later with the basket in hand, all items stacked and clearly unsorted giving her the impression he’d done it all himself. He may have claimed to know his way around a washing machine, but she hadn't really believed it. At least until the haphazard stack was placed in front of her very eyes. 

 

Her eyes locked onto something foreign, something that had no business there and made literally zero sense. At the very top of the stack, folded much more neatly than any piece of clothing underneath sat the twins’ outfits he’d dumped coffee all over and supposedly returned. Apparently, he hadn’t.  _ But he’s definitely still charming _ , she thought,  _ even if he hadn’t been able to return the clothes like he’d claimed. _

 

She must have been staring because only a moment later he picked up the matching outfits and carried them over to the bed, sitting on the opposite edge as he said, “Here,” and handed the freshly cleaned and notably stain free clothes to her waiting hands.

 

“How did you-?” was all she could muster, shaking her head slightly and dragging her gaze upward to meet his.

 

He shrugged adorably as his lip twitched up in a half smile, saying simply, “Mary,” by way of explanation.

 

“No. I mean, how are they here? Clearly, you either didn’t return them and gave me money from your own pocket or you just bought new ones. So… how?”

 

“I just -” he paused, scooting more fully on the bed before laying back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. Her own gaze was still locked on him, her fingers twisting the soft coordinated fabric as he spoke. “First off, the girl behind the counter obviously couldn’t do her job. I know for a fact that big corporations and retails chains purge millions of dollars of inventory every single year. She  _ should  _ have refunded me. They still had the tags, Betts!” he said emphatically, twisting his neck to meet her amused expression.

 

“I understand where the poor girl is coming from,” she laughed. “I worked in retail for all of two months when I was younger and they are serious about stock.”

 

“Tags, Betty,” he reiterated with an exasperated sigh.

 

Somehow they’d both gravitated toward the middle of the bed, Betty leaning forward propped up on one arm and Jughead tilted toward her on his side. “So… question.”

 

“Hm?” he hummed, eyes once more locked on the popcorn ceiling towering over them both.

 

“Why’d you keep them? And why bring them here? We hadn’t even really… talked? We’d literally just met, Jughead.”

 

“Well, when you put it like that, I sound pretty fucking creepy, don't I?”

 

“Or,” she paused, letting her eyes linger on the slow rise and fall of his chest as she mustered all of her courage. He had said she was cute not too long before, and finding out he was sweet and maybe even a bit romantic was emboldening her in a way only inebriation had ever been able to before. “Sweet. You sound,” she said slowly, breathlessly, “sweet.”

 

He cleared his throat and she watched his eyes skirt the angles of her face, bouncing to her lips then back up again. She felt the weight of his gaze settling in when a loud thump sounded from down the hall followed by a series of loud laughs. “Oh God,” Jughead groaned, and Betty couldn’t help but laugh, too. 

 

“That didn’t sound-”   
  


“Stop!” He held up his hand for emphasis, the other still firmly planted over one ear. “Not another word.”

 

“Geez, such a prude,” she teased, and only because she was looking, really and truly looking for any hint of a sign from him did she notice it. The muscles around his eyes relaxed and his half hooded gaze bore into her.

 

“Not even close.” It sounded an awful lot like a warning, the wary quality of his tone sending shivers up her spine from more than just the chilly air. And Betty  _ had _ always been one to enjoy bending the rules. But just as quickly as she felt the flash of heat bearing down on her, it was gone, and an easy smile slid into place. 

 

“Noted,” she dared, laying out the folded pieces of cloth and smiling at the sight. “So, it’s clear you folded them, but how’d you get the stains out?”

 

“It was all Mary. She’s magic I swear. I think it comes with years and years of finding grass stains on every piece of clothing Archie owned. She has some magic mix with baking soda or something that just seems to work on everything - coffee included.”

 

“And you just thought it’d be nice to clean the stains off and give them back to me?”

 

“I mean no, not at first. Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have given you your money back.”

 

“Fair. But you  _ did _ pack them and bring them here with the clear intention of cleaning them… so… when, um,” she pursed her lips, rearranging the words in her head to make sure they came out exactly right. “When did you change your mind and decide you wanted to clean them for me? And,” she dared, “Why? I’m practically a stranger.”

 

“Well,” he said slowly, the single syllable deliberately drug out as he gulped. “First, the day we had coffee, I uh, I dunno, I mean come on, Betty… This is,” he paused again, looking over to her and mumbling, “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

“Oh.” Before she could even form a coherent response, he was speaking again, brushing past the implication she desperately wanted to analyze.

 

“Anyway, if you happened to want to send them still, we could walk to the post office tomorrow and overnight them.” 

 

“Oh,” she repeated, softly. “That’s - that’s so thoughtful, Jughead.”

 

“It’s no big deal, really.”

 

“I happen to think it’s kind of a big deal. Seriously, Juggie, it means more than you know. Thank you.”

 

“Anytime,” he said, and the combination of his softened gaze and lip quirked up on one side made her wish that the sentiment were true. But alas, the promise of anytime was far from relevant when they had a clear expiration date mere days away. 

 

Even if he thought she was cute, even if he might’ve taken pity on her at the mall, even if there was that slim chance he  _ may _ have had a bit of a crush on her when they first met, even if it were all true - she wasn’t actually his girlfriend. And he had zero obligation to ever even speak to her again after their trip back to the city the night of the twenty-fifth.

 

Jughead cleared his throat and turned to scoot off the bed.

 

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Just stay here tonight. I promise it’s fine.”  _ I’ll even bite if you want, _ she wanted so badly to add - but refrained, thanks in large part to her well-ingrained manners despite his teasing banter not long before. She would, too.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Jug, come on. I wouldn’t offer it over and over again if I wasn’t. Just sleep here. There’s plenty of room and I  _ did _ tell Mary you’d share the blanket. I’d hate for you to make a liar out of me.”

 

“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?”

 

-

 

Thirty minutes later, the soft lull of the television was drowned out by the sound of her heart thudding in her eardrums. Betty tried and tried to go to sleep, closing her eyes and counting backward from one hundred - twice - to no avail. She tried her hardest to remain completely still, both of them turned to opposite sides.  _ Breathe in, then out, _ she repeated, eventually giving up and turning to face his back. It was a nice back, she supposed, studying the lines of his shoulders and the lean muscles wrapped around there. A  _ very _ nice back. Based on what she’d seen so far, everything about him was  _ very  _ nice. 

 

Physically she couldn’t deny the attraction. Then he’d given her the clothes, and whether he realized it or not - that had been the most attractive thing yet - his heart. When given the option between spending Christmas at The Farm and spending it with the Andrews, Jughead and his family were definitely preferable; but offering in any small way to help her connect with her family was monumental in a way she wasn’t quite ready to process yet. Washing the stains out of the outfits and offering to go with her to mail them off the next day had pushed her attraction into overdrive. She supposed that was why she was staring at his back, tracing the lines of his muscles while nursing a crush on the sleeping man next to her. 

 

The last thought she had a simple - she needed to casually get him under the mistletoe again - and soon.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, would you look at that! There's been a new chapter every other day since posting! YAY! (I'm cheering for actually being able to keep this up - Christmas miracles are real, kids.)
> 
> I'm hoping to continue to put out a chapter every other day until it ends with chapter 8! *fingers crossed*


	5. December 23rd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys don’t even realize how amazing @jandjsalmon is for keeping up with this schedule. I’m in awe of her.

 

*

 

Jughead hadn’t expected to wake up with Betty wrapped in his arms. His arm was numb,her head was situated on his shoulder, and their legs were intertwined. They’d gone to sleep with space between them but somehow during the night, they'd gravitated toward each other. Jughead certainly wasn’t complaining though. And based on the way, even in sleep, her lips were curled up in a soft smile, apparently she wasn’t either.

 

He lay there for a few more minutes, basking in the warmth of her under wrapped up around him under the covers. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept in the same bed with a woman, much less felt as comfortable as he did holding her close. It was something he could get used to, at least for the last few days of the trip. If he played his cards right, maybe this was how they could spend the rest of the holiday together. She seemed to like him, and he’d all but blurted out that he liked her the night before. But he didn't want to take advantage of her. He was in his own town and she was the guest. He certainly didn’t want to be presumptuous but he also didn't want to push her away either. After his mortifying almost slip the night before, the ball was in her court now, he supposed, laughing a little to himself at the use of the uncharacteristic sports metaphor at some ungodly hour of the morning - and he’d used it properly, too.

 

“Betty,” he murmured, rubbing a hand gently along her back. “It’s time to wake up.”

 

Beneath his fingertips, he could feel her begin to stir. “Mmmm,” she hummed into his chest. Those baser instincts he wasn’t proud of were rearing their ugly head again and he knew he needed to move - and fast, or she’d be fully aware of exactly how much certain parts of him liked her early in the morning.

 

“I’ll be right back.” He slid his arm out from under her, carefully rolling off the edge of the bed.

 

-

 

“What happened to our story, by the way?” Betty asked, pulling up the comforter and placing the pillow back on the bed as though it’d never been touched.

 

Somehow during his short shower and morning hygiene routine she’d gotten up, dressed herself,  _ and _ made the bed. Jellybean always took at least an hour to fully wake up this early in the morning and yet Betty did it in a fraction of the time.

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“Our first kiss. Wasn’t I supposed to kiss you?”

 

“Oh, right.” Truth be told, he hadn’t quite been thinking clearly in that moment. He’d more been speaking from a stream of wishful consciousness. “Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans.”

 

She tilted her head, that endearing smile from earlier that morning twisting at the edge of her lips. “I happen to like plans.”

 

“I never would have guessed.” She rolled her eyes but the smile stayed in its place and he felt one of his own threatening to bloom. 

 

“Well, just make sure we remember that later, okay? I want to make a good impression on your friends tomorrow and… what was their daughter’s name?”

 

“Paris,” Jughead supplied. “I know, I know. The cultural stigma of that particular name leaves something to be desired but it fits her.” He remembered fondly how difficult it had been for them to settle on a name. Archie had texted him countless names that even  _ he _ couldn’t pronounce before they’d settled on the more basic and iconic City of Love. “Veronica’s grandiose to say the least and Archie’s childhood dog was named Vegas so Paris worked for them both.”

 

“I like it.” 

 

“She’s five, by the way, so I’m sure your cookies alone will win her over,” he added with a grin.

 

“Oh! That reminds me. When we go into town today, can we look at a few presents? I want to have something to give everyone when we open up gifts.” He hadn’t even thought of that. Leave it to Betty to be more considerate of his so-called family than he was himself. 

 

“Sure, the shopping here is a bit limited but there are a few stores you can browse. If all else fails, just put a bow on top of the ham tomorrow and tell everyone dinner is your gift.”

 

“Real funny, Jug.” The light laugh that accompanied her teasing smile made his heart thud in his chest. It was still just as enchanting as it had been a few days ago, maybe even more so now - if that was even possible.

 

“Hey, I’d take food as a gift any day.”

 

“Considering the sheer amount of calories you appear to consume in a single day, I don’t doubt that at all. Which, by the way, is equally frustrating and fascinating. I don’t know where you put it.” She raised her brows at the last line, apparently surprising herself.

 

“I could show you.” Even though she promptly turned on her heel and started looked for something in her bag, he hadn’t missed the way her cheeks flamed. “Sorry, uhm, anyway, are we baking or shopping first?” 

 

“Shopping. I don’t want to get caught in the storm later.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” He finished tying his shoes and pocketed his wallet and phone before walking to the door.

 

“One we’ll actually stick to this time,” she teased, zipping up her bag and making her way to the door.

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

-

 

After downing two cups of coffee and a startling amount of bacon and eggs, Jughead joined Mary in the kitchen to help with the clean up when Betty said she had to go back upstairs for a moment before they left.

 

“We like her, Jug.” 

 

He hadn’t expected the pang of guilt he felt. “Yeah, I do, too.”

 

“I can see that,” she said fondly, scrubbing a dish before handing it to him to place in the dishwasher. “Maybe we’ll see her next year?”

 

Despite the hopeful lilt of her words, Jughead didn’t want to string her along more than necessary. “I - I don’t know. She spends Christmas with her mom and sister most years.”

 

“Oh.” 

 

“But you never know,” he added. “We’ll all have to wait and see.” Maybe it was far fetched to think that outside of the confines of Riverdale she’d want anything to do with him, especially for more than just a few days, but he could always hope.

 

-

 

His arms were practically throbbing from the weight of the bags. They’d selected an ornamental metal letter ‘A’ wall decoration for Fred and Mary, a coffee table book of old black and white film stars for Veronica, and a new guitar strap for Archie adorned with little footballs that Jughead swore was ‘perfect’. Paris had been easier to shop for, thanks in large part to the fact that hadn’t narrowed the options down at all, deciding instead to buy her a multitude of toys and books. He figured it a bit of it was from Betty’s desire to give her own niece and nephew presents, but he happily let her shop vicariously through his goddaughter and footed the entire bill even as she protested with her own card outstretched to the cashier. “They’re supposed to be from  _ us _ , anyway.”

 

“What about for each other? We need something to gift each other.” 

 

The alarm in her voice was quite endearing as they walked to the car. “Let’s unload some of this first so I can feel my arms and we’ll go find something.”

 

-

 

A short while later they were back in the truck with two extra bags piled on top of the mountain of toys in the backseat. “It’s a good thing we didn’t get anything else. I don’t think we could fit another thing in this cab.”

 

She giggled as she said, “Come on, Juggie. The best part of Christmas is seeing the look on everyone’s faces as they open their gifts.”

 

“I stand by the best part being the food.”

 

“Of course you would,” she said with a roll of her eyes as pulled up to the post office. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He watched from the warmth of the cab as she carried the bag of freshly laundered children’s clothes in through the doors and up to counter. He was sure post offices all over the country were packed at that exact moment, but Riverdale’s wasn’t one of them. With a population of under five thousand, it made sense, of course, but he was grateful nonetheless. Curiously, she pulled out a few folded pieces of paper from her pocket and stuffed them into a box alongside the clothes, making out a label and swiping her card before waving goodbye to the man behind the counter who was still wearing a goofy grin as he watched her walk away. Jughead couldn’t blame the guy, he was pretty sure he’d worn the same smile at least a few times over the previous days.

 

She stopped just short of the exit door, pulling her phone from her pocket and appearing to dial someone. He watched her pace for a few moments before pulling the phone back and ending the call, stuffing it back in her pocket and bringing her hands to her face. He was thoroughly confused right up until she climbed back in the cab. The light pink splotches on her face certainly weren’t from the weather.

 

“Betty,” he offered, reaching his hand over and placing it on her thigh.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, staring out the window intently.

 

“So don’t talk, just listen. Whoever made you cry a few days before Christmas doesn’t deserve your time. I haven’t even known you that long and even I know that you’re special. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel otherwise, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she sniffled, laying her own hand over his and squeezing it gently. “Thank you, Jug.”

 

-

 

If he hadn’t been in the truck with her when it happened, he never would have known she’d had a rough morning based on the way she flitted around the kitchen a short while later, happily grabbing ingredients and piling them up on the counter. She was humming along to “Walking in a Winter Wonderland” as she studied the cabinets.

 

“Looking for something?” He’d tried his best to stay out of the way. Other than putting dishes away and assisting with clean up, his talents were limited to eating the food, not cooking it.

 

“Where would they keep the baking soda? I just combed through the cabinets and I would have thought it’d be with the spices, but I can’t seem to find it.”

 

He immediately knew where it was hiding. “Follow me.”

 

They’d just passed over the threshold into the hallway when Betty stopped him, tugging on his wrist until he turned around as she pointed upward. “Mistletoe,” she whispered, and he couldn’t comply quick enough.

 

He sunk his fingertips into the nape of her neck, pulling her forward a few inches until their lips met in a bruising kiss. He could feel her gripping his sides as he deepened the kiss, pressing her back against the wall. When he ran his tongue over the seam of her lips, he swallowed her gasp as she arched into him. The swirl of her tongue had him feeling drunker than any beverage had ever managed. 

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat broke them from their haze. “Ohmigod,” she breathed, burying her face into his neck as he laughed and mumbled an apology to Mary who was trying to get by.

 

“You know, you two  _ do _ have a room upstairs,” she called from the hall and he felt Betty sink further into him.

 

“The coast is clear,” he murmured against her ear and she pulled back, her eyes skating over his features before she leaned against the wall and dipped her head, smoothing her hands over her jeans.

 

“Baking soda,” she finally said.

 

“Oh, right. Uh, yeah. Let me go grab it.”

 

-

 

He’d successfully stolen samples of each of her creations except the pies. In the span of approximately three hours, she’d magically conjured up an apple pie, a pumpkin pie, two types of fudge, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. 

 

“Don’t think I can’t see you sneaking bites, Juggie,” she warned, wielding the spatula. “Save some for everyone else, would you?”

 

“But I’m the official taste tester, Betts. It’s my duty to ensure everything is delectable.”

 

She smiled as she asked, “Well, is it?”

 

“I don’t know, I’d better check again.”

 

Just as he was reaching forward to grab another cookie, her fingers wrapped around his wrist as she tsked him for trying. “Not so fast. One taste is enough. What’s the verdict?”

 

He pretended to think long and hard about it, earning him a giggle. “I don’t think anyone will like them. I should eat them all and save everyone the trouble.”

 

“Juggie,” she whined, but with a proud smile still intact. 

 

-

 

A short while later, Betty and Mary were sealing up all the desserts, packing away the cookies and putting the pies in the fridge when Fred’s phone rang from the living room. Jughead got up to retrieve it, calling out for Fred but not getting an answer. 

 

When he checked the screen, the name  _ Jellybean _ flashed across it and he hastily swiped the green button. He wandered onto the front porch, listening to JB go on about the presents she’d gotten everyone and how excited she was to meet her boyfriend’s family the next day then have him meet her own family the day after that. Everything in him wanted to lay down the law as the older brother. She was only seventeen! Love doesn’t exist! Meeting the family is awfully serious for such a young age! - all of that and more were sitting just on the tip of his tongue when he peered back in the house, catching a glimpse of Betty and Mary laughing at the sink. “I hope you have fun, sis,” he finally settled on just before the door opened and Fred emerged.

 

“Hold on, JB,” he said as he passed off the phone.

 

“Is that you little Jellybean?” Fred teased, and Jughead could have sworn he felt his heart grow three times the size right then and there. “Here let me put you on speaker.”

 

The three of them talked about Paris and how smart she was for her age, coming home with the glowing report cards Fred had always wished Archie would have. Eventually, the topic turned to the food for the following day’s meal, Jellybean’s mouth practically watering through the phone over the menu as they recited the dishes and desserts. Then finally, as Jughead held his breath, JB asked how everyone liked his girlfriend so far. He felt his face flush as Fred gushed over Betty. He found his eyes wandering once again to the front window as he peeked into the kitchen. Glimpses of words like ‘beautiful’, ‘sweet’, and ‘charming’ had him nodding along despite the fact that JB couldn’t even see.

 

-

 

“We should invite you for every holiday, Betty! I swear I’m an expert in the courtroom but I’m useless in the kitchen.”

 

“We all have our strengths,” Betty smiled, placing the last dish in the dishwasher and drying her hands.

 

“Sometimes I wish mind had been more of the domestic variety,” Mary laughed, but the hollow chill running through her words told Betty it was anything but a joke. “Anyway, I can’t thank you enough for all your help this holiday. You’ve been nothing short of a godsend.”

 

“Why thank you, Mary. But I should really be thanking you. This has been… the best holiday I’ve had in years and it’s not even Christmas yet.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more, dear,” Mary said fondly, folding her into a bone crushing hug.

 

-

 

“Oh, that’s not even fair!” Betty exclaimed, pointing to Jughead’s third hotel on Park Place. She swished the red wine in her glass before tipping it back and laughing as he counted his money. “Ebenezer Scrooge, that’s your new nickname. It’s settled.”

 

“Fitting,” Fred added, rolling the dice and moving the dog six spaces forward.

 

“Hey, I resent that. I happen to have plenty of Christmas cheer!” Jughead protested, sitting down his own freshly drained wine glass before scooting closer to Betty on the couch.

 

“Sure you do, Jug.” Mary took her turn next, fondly shaking her head as she advanced her piece.

 

“Do you really think I’m a Scrooge, Betts?”

 

The way he looked at her then, with wide, pleading eyes and his lip jutted out ever so slightly only fueled the fire that’d been simmering from their earlier hallway encounter. “Of course not, babe,” she conceded, leaning over to cup his cheek and pull him into a kiss. 

 

“Oh, to be young and in love again,” Betty heard Mary say from across the Monopoly board. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks again, that same betraying blush creeping into view.

 

-

 

When two full bottles sat empty on the counter and Jughead had more than half the game’s money stacked in front of him, they all called it a night. With a few hugs and promises of a rematch in the near future, Betty and Jughead traipsed up the stairs and entered their room.

 

“I think I’m falling in love with Fred and Mary,” Betty giggled. 

 

“They’re honestly the best. I don’t blame you.”

 

“I hope they like their gift.” She pulled out the oversized swirly monogrammed sign and stared at it. 

 

“Even if they don’t, you’ll never know,” he teased, walking up behind her and placing his hands on her hips, pulling her back against his chest.

 

“Jug,” she breathed.

 

“What?” he whispered into the skin of her neck.

 

“They’ll like it, won’t they?”

 

“I certainly think so.” The heat of his breath against the tingling skin of her neck had her head swimming from more than just the glasses of wine earlier. “Mary gives the best gifts, by the way, so be prepared to cry Christmas morning.”

 

“No pressure or anything,” she smiled as she felt his lips land against her skin once more, dragging against it before pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

 

“Is this okay?”

 

She felt him still for only a moment before she nodded, leaning further back into him and placing the present back in the bag. Once her hands were empty, she reached behind and carded her fingers through his unruly curls, pulling him closer until his lips sealed over her skin. She was almost embarrassed by the whimper she released, but quickly lost her train of thought when she felt him pressing against her from behind. “Mmmm,” she hummed, tugging his mouth away to clear his head. “We should,” she breathed, “we should get ready for bed.”

 

He groaned and Betty felt it vibrate through every inch of her body, sending waves of sensation through even the tips of her toes. “As you wish.”

 

-

 

In a split second decision, she’d decided to wear one of her more revealing sets of underwear beneath another set of Christmas themed matching pajamas. She reasoned  that he probably wouldn’t see them anyway, but the extra boost of confidence certainly couldn’t hurt. And if he just so happened to catch a glimpse, at least they were sexy.

 

He was up on the bed much to her relief. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to talk him into it again. She’d slept better the night before than she had in a long time and spending the last few nights in the same bed with him was something she was secretly looking forward to. 

 

He looked almost sheepish as he said, “Hi,” pulling back the covers for her to climb in.

 

“Hi,” she echoed just as shyly. She’d had her tongue down his throat just hours before and his hardness pressed against her ass even more recently and yet, something about crawling into bed with him felt even more intimate. “I meant it earlier, the Andrews have been wonderful. Thank you for inviting me, Jug.”

 

“You know, you don’t have to keep thanking me,” he laughed, extending an arm out in invitation for her to curl into him. 

 

She took it without hesitation, settling into the crook of his arm and laying a hand over his heart, tracing small circles as she said, “I know you said they took you in, and you don’t have to talk about it or anything, but I just wanted to say that I think you turned out pretty amazing.”

 

“That’s definitely something you can thank them for. If I’d followed my dad’s example, I’d be a drunk biker who couldn't even keep the power on.”

 

“Jug,” she whispered, tilting her head up to catch his gaze, “We are not our parents. And if it comes down to nature versus nurture in this particular scenario, I’d guess nurture won out.”

 

“Fred wasn’t always like this, you know, all sentimental about holidays and such,” he started, shifting a little so they were eye to eye. “When Archie and I left for college, he had a health scare. He had a heart attack while out on a construction site.”

 

Betty waited with bated breath as the seconds dragged on. “You don’t have to tell me,” she offered, reaching over to lay her hand on his.

  
“I want to,” he said simply, “it’s just hard to talk about. Archie came running home, changed his classes to online and got his degree here. Veronica followed him and they got married pretty quickly after. Something about questioning one’s own existence makes people do funny things. They had Paris not long after that and I just… I just admire him really. When it mattered the most, he put his family first and has been by his dad’s side ever since. He even helps run the construction company to limit his dad’s stress. When I say the Andrews are the best people I know, I mean it. All of them, Archie included. But I… I came to the hospital and then I left. Went back to the city. Archie was left here to pick up the pieces and help everyone and I… I should have done the same.”

 

“Hey… hey,” Betty reached up and tilted his chin down, holding his eyes as she said, “I know they’re so proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. Sure, Archie did it from here, but you couldn’t. I’m sure coming home for the holidays means so much to them, Jug.”

 

“I know, I know. I just… part of me always wonders if I should have done things differently.”

 

“Well, you know,” she whispered, “we wouldn’t be here if you had.”

 

“I guess you’re right.”

 

The silence was broken by an insistent buzzing on the nightstand but Betty didn’t move. When Jughead raised his eyebrows and looked past her she realized it was her own phone. “Sorry, uh, give me a second.”

 

She wasn’t sure who would be texting her so late but she was still holding out hope for a return call from earlier. She’d called The Farm looking for Polly before sending off the present hoping to talk to her sister, but the line had rang through with no answer. What she hadn’t expected was  _ Kevin _ to show three missed calls and two texts marked urgent.

 

Kev -  Where’s that picture you promised?

 

Kev -  Betty, you little minx! Not answering at this time of night means one thing

and I still want receipts!

 

Betty groaned as she laid back on the pillow. “Can I ask you a quick favor?”

 

“Sure,” he said skeptically.

 

“Can you take a selfie with me?” When he didn’t immediately respond she glanced over at him, a look of confusion painted on his face. “My best friend made me promise I’d show him a picture of you.”

 

“Uh, sure,” he said with a smile.

 

Betty scooted closer and opened up her camera, tilting the phone up to try and get them both in the picture. “Hang on,” she said quickly, readjusting and pressing herself to his side. “Better.”

 

She snapped a few pictures, quickly selecting one and sending it off before turning off the light, silencing her phone, and scooting back under the covers. The weight of the earlier conversation seemed to have lifted, a comfortable silence settled in its place. Pulling at the covers, she felt the tips of his fingers and in a moment of bravery, slipped hers through his. Against the strips of moonlight painting the room, she could see how perfectly her palm fit into his.

 

She took a few deep breaths and turned on her side to face him. “Good night, Juggie,” she whispered.

 

He echoed with, “Good night,” before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against her lips.

 

While his intention may have been soft and sweet, the way Betty returned the kiss was anything but. Her arms wound around his neck and she pulled herself forward, deepening the kiss. They took their time exploring, tongues twisting and hands roaming under the light of the moon. 

 

Somewhere between their shared breaths and fumbling hands, the ruse was long forgotten. And when they finally drifted off to sleep, much as they’d woken up with tangled limbs enveloped in warmth, she wondered where the line between their act and reality truly was - and which side of it they were actually on.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is my fav chapter yet but the one coming up might rival that. If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear from you !
> 
> Thanks so much for taking the time to read <3


	6. December 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if @jandjsalmon sleeps. She's magical and makes my words so much better.
> 
> Also - fair warning - this chapter earns the M rating :D 
> 
> (if you're under the legal age of consent, this may not be a chapter for you)

 

*

 

They both shot up out of bed with eyes wide when the shrieking squeal of five-year old Paris broke through the typical quiet of the Andrews household at 8 am. With his eyes darting back and forth between Betty’s confused expression and the glowing green numbers of the alarm clock, Jughead yawned and mumbled, “Plans must have changed. They’re here early.”

 

Betty’s eyes lit up with excitement as she scrambled off the bed to pull on a pair of thick grey padded tights and a cream-colored oversized sweater. Once again, he was amazed at how quickly she could transform from sleep-heavy limbs to bright and bubbly Betty Cooper. He barely had one foot on the ground as finished up by tugging on her socks. “Hurry up, Jug,” she pressed, bouncing on one socked foot and pulling on the other.

 

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” he grumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he blindly reached into his bag for jeans and a sweater of some sort. He settled on the first thing he grabbed, a dark grey henley and a pair of dark wash jeans. Just for good measure he pulled out a flannel and tossed it all on while she was doing whatever she was doing in the bathroom. In record time, she emerged, hair perfectly slicked back in a ponytail with her face freshly washed. 

 

“How do I look?” she asked with a grin as she held her arms out to sides.

 

He wanted to say ‘gorgeous,’ or ‘stunning’ maybe even ‘glowing’ if it didn’t have such a common association with something he definitely wasn’t implying, but none of it sounded quite right - even in his own head. He noticed her arms drop to the side as she pulled on the hem of the sweater. She was staring at her boots when he took a step forward.

 

“You look beautiful, Betts,” he said earnestly, reaching up to cup her cheek. When she leaned into it, he stepped forward and wound his free arm around her waist. “I mean it.”

 

“Thank you,” she breathed, and if anyone had ever asked, he never would have been able to tell them who leaned in first.

 

Their lips met in the middle, a sweet, simple kiss, gentle pressure ceasing after only a moment. “Jug,” she whispered, her breath fanning across his lips.

 

“What?” He gently ran his knuckles down her cheek, studying the lean lines of her features wearing such an unguarded expression. 

 

“Can we talk about this… about us… later?” she asked with the softest voice. 

 

“Yeah. Betty, I just want you to know that -”

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

 

They both turned to face the door only to hear a muffled giggle on the other side of it followed quickly by a tiny yet somehow very loud voice call, “Uncle Juggie!”

 

“Be right there.” He turned to face Betty once more, pulling her forward and placing a soft kiss against her forehead. “Later. I promise.”

 

“UNCLE JUGGIE!” they heard again, Betty beginning to giggle as he rolled his eyes in response.

 

“She gets her patience from her mother, as you’ll soon find out. And her propensity for unreasonable volume,” he chuckled, opening the door to find his goddaughter waiting on the other side.

 

“JUGGIE,” she screeched, jumping up as he bent down and tackling him in a hug. “Do you wanna play in the snow me with? Mommy said we’re here early and it snowed last night and I wanna build a snowman! Build one with meeeee?”

 

“I  _ love  _ snow but first I want you to meet someone. This here is Betty,” Jughead said, gesturing beside him to Betty who had also crouched down to their current height, “She’s my girlfriend.”

 

“Betty?!” she asked, eyes shining with excitement. “Can I call you Auntie Betty?”

 

Jughead felt instantly mortified, they’d barely agreed to talk about what an ‘us’ could mean and yet his five-year-old goddaughter with no filter had basically just implied that she was family. 

 

Before he could even open his mouth, Paris had wrapped her arms around Betty and he heard her say, “Sure you can, Sweetie,” followed by an echoing giggle from both girls. 

 

-

 

“So, Auntie Betty?” Veronica asked with a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised in his direction. Paris and Betty were knee deep in snow, rolling around balls and building up the base of the snowmen. Jughead had tried to help at first but was quickly looked over by Paris when Betty volunteered to help. He’d helped her build a snowman the year before and it had been a learning experience though not the most successful endeavor of his life - the finished product looked more like a sad, leaning scarecrow - but Betty, on the other hand, appeared to be damn near an expert with the most picture perfect snowballs he had ever seen.

 

“Yeah, Paris asked if she could,” he simply replied, trying unsuccessfully to hide just how pleased and terrified all of this was making him.

 

“And will Aunt Betty be sticking around?” The question was layered with a healthy doses of skepticism and genuine interest. Veronica had always been a bit on the fence about him, even going so far as to set him up with a few of her friends in the city only to be left with voicemails about him ditching their dates.

 

“I don’t know, Ronnie. I hope so, if that counts for anything?”

 

“For your sake, Forsythe, I hope it does,” she said plainly. 

 

“Give her a chance, okay? I like her. I think you will too when you get to know her.”

 

“Just… don’t let her break Paris’ heart, okay?”

 

“Oh come on, Ron, she’s known her for an hour. At best, she’ll see her at holidays. Can we dial down the dramatics for once?” he drawled.

 

“With Ronnie?”Archie asked, coming up behind them and slinging an arm over his wife’s shoulder. “Never.”

 

They all laughed at that, Jughead and Archie more so than Veronica, but even she was self-aware enough to realize she was dramatic by nature.

 

“What’s going on?” Archie asked, equal parts confused and enthused. “What’d I miss?”

 

“Oh, nothing. Your wife is threatening me if I don’t bring Betty back because Paris likes her.” He watched Betty help Paris lift the final snowball into place, topping a perfect rounded body with its head, before turning to find branches with Paris in tow.

 

“I don’t think she’ll be the only one upset if Betty doesn’t come back,” Archie said, and Jughead turned with a brow quirked, waiting for his best friend’s clarification. “Mom and Dad won’t shut up about her. She’s gotta be great if they love her, too,” he explained.

 

“So, how long is she going to stick around?” Veronica asked, a smile tilting on the edges of her lips as they all watched Betty carrying Paris through the snow with a bundle of branches in her lap.

 

“That is the million dollar question,” Jughead said, idly staring at the beautiful blonde who was blissfully unaware of the current conversation.

 

-

 

“And we named him Mr. Freeze,” Paris said, bouncing up and down on the barstool in the kitchen. “And Auntie Betty promised me that we could go sledding, can we go sledding, Grampy? Please, please, pleaseeeeee.”

 

“I don’t see why not,” Fred answered with a smile, turning to look at Veronica and Archie who nodded their approval. He quirked a brow at Jughead who just shrugged in response, smile still intact. “Give me a bit to search around in the shed, okay little one?”

 

“Okay,” she beamed at her grandfather.

 

“So, Betty,” Veronica began, and just by her tone of voice that he knew all too well was leading to some kind of interrogation. Jughead scooted closer and prepared for the worst. “Tell me what you love about Jughead?”

 

Betty paused, her eyes going wide as she tilted her head to look at him. She was standing at the counter opposite the island and he was grateful they couldn’t see her expression at that moment. 

 

Jughead frowned. “Love, Veronica, really? It’s been a few months, not that I’m sure there’s anything to love as you well know, but let’s just stick with like for now.”

 

He looked back at Betty and the shock was gone, replaced with something he couldn’t quite name, a strange mix of pity or sadness and something else. “Juggie,” she cooed, “there’s plenty to love.” Then louder, “But as far as what I  _ like _ about him,” she stared, moving to his side as though it was already a practiced motion and nestling under his arm, “Basically everything. There are so many things.  He's got untold depths. Layers. And even if not everyone knows it, the people he cares about know how special he is. He’s generous with his heart when he feels like someone deserves it. He’s a good friend, a good listener, and an even better cuddler,” she said, biting her lip and looking at him through her long lashes. “Is that what you wanted to know?” she finished, laying her head on his chest for emphasis.

 

She played her part well, that much certain, but Jughead wondered exactly how much of it had simply been narrative and how much she genuinely meant.

 

“Well, it seems you cracked open the old softie. Who would have thought?” Veronica said, apparently buying it hook line and sinker.

 

“What can I say?” he joked, “I’m a real Romeo sometimes.”

 

“Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

 

“Oh, Juliet! Oh, Juliet,” his teasing made her laugh aloud...

 

“That’s my line.”

 

“Equal rights,” he answered  with a shrug, and when she leaned up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth he turned just in time to capture her lips.

 

“Ew! Gross,” Paris called from her spot at the kitchen island.

 

Jughead felt warm as he smiled into the kiss.

 

-

 

The ham was in the oven and Betty said they had approximately two hours before she needed to be back to start the sides.They were trudging up a hill in the forest behind the house to find the old clearing where the boys used to sled when they were kids. Fred and Mary were back at the house ‘keeping an eye on the oven’ which actually meant wrapping presents as the adults all well knew.

 

“So, why the sudden change of plans?” Jughead asked, Betty’s gloved hand wrapped firmly in one hand with the sleds in the other.

 

“We were supposed to do a family brunch with the my parents  today,” Veronica explained, “But Daddy had to go out of town for work for the day. After dinner, everyone is coming over for presents with Paris. Fred and Mary are coming too, right Archie?”

 

“Oh, yeah. They said that would work fine. Sorry, I forgot to tell you earlier.”

 

“So, that means tonight you two lovebirds have the house all to yourself, I guess. Unless you’d like to come to Casa de Lodge for the annual present swap extravaganza?”

 

“No, thanks,” Jughead quickly said. “I just uh, mean, yeah, no thanks.” He’d just done it - stuffed his entire foot in his mouth no matter how it was interpreted. To Veronica, it was a brush off - which he could deal with. But to Betty - well, he had practically just jumped at the chance for alone time. When he snuck a glance her way, the pink dusting her cheeks seemed to be a good sign. 

 

As it turns out, both Betty and Veronica were cheerleaders in high school and even part of the same sorority - albeit different chapters - in college. After a short while, it was Betty and Veronica walking together arm in arm as they recited their sorority pledges and reminisced about college with Archie and Jughead left behind carrying the sleds. 

 

“Well, they seem to like each other,” Archie mused.

 

“Yeah, maybe a little too much,” Jughead said, consternation almost outweighing the relief that she got on so well with the people he considered family.

 

“No such thing, my man.”

 

-

 

When they finally reached the clearing they’d been searching for, the years hadn’t changed a thing. The snow was piled up, powdery white without even a footprint breaking the pristine texture.

 

“Right here,” Archie called, and all three girls turned around. Paris was only a few feet in front of Betty and Veronica and she began to bounce excitedly.

 

Paris wanted to go with her daddy first and Archie couldn’t have looked more pleased. He positioned himself on the sled, legs crossed with just enough room for Paris to squeeze in with her shiny black snowsuit and shimmering black boots crossed and tucked under the edge. She laughed all the way down and insisted on a ride with each of them - Mommy, Auntie Betty, Uncle Juggie, then Daddy again - in that exact order. And the adults happily complied.

 

Paris was covered in snow, thanks in large part to her final ride with Archie where he’d hunched down to gain speed and turned to the side at the last moment so they landed in a pillow of fluffy white flakes. Veronica and Archie each climbed on a sled and raced each other down, Paris cheering for no one in particular at the top. 

 

Betty wrapped her arm around Jughead and laid her head on his chest, whispering, “Thank you for today, Juggie,” through the muffled layers of padding. 

 

Mindful of  Paris’ earlier outburst when they’d kissed, he leaned down and breathed, “You’re welcome,” into the fabric of her white woolen beanie, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

-

 

Back at the house, Betty looked at the spread before her. Sure, the green bean casserole was a tiny bit burnt and she was about thirty-five minutes past the target time she’d set to have it all done - but it looked damn near perfect. There was a large spiral ham Fred sliced with a great deal of care - and a minimal amount of coaching - the green bean casserole that Mary had helped her make, rolls that Archie had burned his hand grabbing straight off the hot pan, and a salad that Paris was picking the walnuts off of. But all in all, with each dish seasoned with a touch of love and more memories than she knew the dishes could even fit, Christmas dinner was served.

 

The dinner conversation focused on Paris. She rattled off what she’d asked Santa for - repeating the golden retriever puppy exactly four times throughout the list. “I want one just like Daddy had,” she’d said firmly like a girl who was used to getting what she wanted.

 

“Ohmigod, B, this is amazing,” Veronica marveled, savoring a bite of the golden glazed ham.

 

“The glaze is a Cooper family recipe. I’m really lucky that Riverdale Grocery had all the ingredients.”

 

“Listen, Betty,” Fred interrupted, fork firmly pressed into his plate and knife pointed in her direction. “You can come back every year. Bring Jughead or not, you’re always welcome. This is incredible.”

 

Betty laughed at that, spinning her fork on her own plate before looking at Jughead to her right. “Did you hear that, Juggie?” she asked him playfully.

 

“Don’t get any ideas, Betts,” Jughead mumbled through a mouthful of food. 

 

She laughed and shook her head, biting her bottom lip to keep the brimming smile at bay.

 

-

 

Sitting on the couch, tucked into Jughead’s side, Betty sipped on a glass of wine and listened to Archie and Veronica’s meet-cute story. Paris was still chewing on a cookie from dessert as she studied the presents under the tree on the far side of the room. She’d had enough foresight to serve in disposable dishes and with Jughead’s help cleaning as she’d cooked, the dinner was put away and cleared in no time at all. 

 

“I knew it the first time I saw her. I was like ‘she’s the one’,” Archie recalled, gazing down at his wife fondly.

 

Veronica swatted at him with her lips twisted in a smile as she said, “One of the ones, you mean. I had to whip you into shape first, Archiekins.”

 

“Oh, I was pretty in shape,” he shot back.

 

“My dearest Archie over here had a bit of a habit of loving too much, if you know what I mean,” Veronica continued with a pointed look over to Paris.

 

Betty giggled as Jughead whispered, “Loving everything with a skirt,” in her ear.

 

“Anyway, you get the point. But he did too, soon enough at least, and what I can say? Who could deny a face like that for long?” she said affectionately, reaching up to pull Archie into a kiss.

 

Betty felt Jughead’s arm tighten around her and she pressed herself closer.

 

A little while later, as the group exchanged gifts, Jughead couldn't remember being as content.  

 

“Thank you again, B, because I  _ know _ this was not Jughead’s idea,” Veronica smiled, holding up the coffee table book they’d gifted her. “And, Jug, that guitar strap was perfect. You guys really didn’t have to.”

 

“Nonsense,” Betty said, eyeing the wrapped, square thing Veronica was attempting to hand them.

 

“You guys got us something?” she squeaked, surprised by the gesture.

 

“It’s nothing major,” Veronica said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. 

 

Betty peeled back the wrapping, revealing a twelve opening photo frame with a metal heart in the middle. “Oh, wow! Thank you so much, Veronica,” she whispered.

 

“It’s just something for all of your beginnings. Beginnings are the best part, after all.” Veronica smiled and squeezed Betty's knee.

 

“You guys ready to go?” Fred asked, arms full of presents with Mary waiting by the door. “No one is late to the Lodges,” he added, looking at Betty by way of explanation.

 

“It’s true,” Veronica said as she stood. “Mi’ja, time to go see la familia!” Paris came over instantly, bounding with all the joy a kid at Christmas. 

 

“Bye Auntie Betty, come visit me again soon, okay?” the little girl insisted, wrapping her up in a surprisingly strong hug for a five-year-old. 

 

“Merry Christmas, Sweet Girl,” she settled on, unsure of how else to answer as she returned the girl’s hug.

 

Archie and Veronica were next, both giving her hugs she’d never expected from people she’d known for approximately twelve hours. It felt familiar and comforting, a hint of home in a place she thought she’d feel anything but when this had all started.

 

Before Veronica left, she insisted they trade numbers, even making sure to send a text to Betty so she could reach her ‘later’ whenever that may be.

 

At the very least, Betty thought, she’d gotten an unforgettable experience and met some people she wouldn’t hesitate to see again if she ever had the chance. And Jughead - she’d gotten to know that the broody older brother from the mall with the cute smile and witty tongue was more than meets the eye. 

 

She was lost in thoughts of the depths he could possibly contain, in the monumental burden someone must carry to be raised without their parents, the profound hurt he’d experienced that she never would have guessed from his quirky flirtations. He’d come through it all - forged through the fire like metal and yet he was surprisingly soft, open and vulnerable in a way she still struggled with. 

 

“Whatchya thinkin’ about?” he whispered in her ear, derailing her thoughts of what she realized was adoration. 

 

“You.” The glass of wine she’d sipped had nothing with do with her loose lips in that instant. After the day she’d had, and the few days they’d spent together, it was their last night together, and she wanted all the cards on the table. 

 

But first - she leaned forward to kiss him, the tail lights of the truck long gone and the house stilled in silence. His fingertips slipped around the back of her neck, pulling her forward as she twisted on the couch, swinging one knee over his lap before settling. She pressed her weight down, grinding against him as their sweet touches gave way to desperate grips. 

 

She’d wanted him so badly that morning, adorably meandering to his bag without a shirt and then calling her beautiful. She’d wanted him later that morning when she’d watched the way he played with Paris and saw the love shining his eyes for his goddaughter. She’d wanted him as she watched him watch his best friends profess their own love for each other. Truthfully, she’d wanted him from the start, but the steady, budding ache that had been throbbing through her finally won out right there on the couch with every watchful eye miles away for the next few hours.

 

Betty deepened the kiss, carding her fingers through his hair as the tips of his fingers pressed into her hips, dragging her back and forth against the rough material of his jeans. She mewled in response and all the sudden she was being lifted, wrapping her legs around his waist as he turned toward the stairs. He made it all of two steps when their teeth clinked and she reached her feet down to touch the ground, giggling all the while. She took his outstretched hand and followed him up the stairs two at a time, pressing him against the wall in the upstairs hall when she grew too impatient.

 

His hands wrapped around the back of her thighs and lifted her again. This time he took the steps slow, sealing his mouth over hers as they closed the distance to the bed before he set her down. 

 

He’d never flicked the light on and she felt emboldened by the blanket of darkness coating the corners of the room. From where she was sitting, the fragments of moonlight painted his features and she wanted to watch him see her for the first time under the silvery haze. 

 

“Betty, should we-”

 

But she cut him off, shaking her head as her fingers gripped the edge of her sweater, slowly peeling it upward until it slipped off and was tossed to the side. “We can talk later, we only have the house to ourselves for a little while, Juggie,” she purred, standing to thread her fingers through the waistband of her tights. 

 

She watched him look at her, studied each expression, the lilting smile he was trying to suppress, the press of his teeth into his lip harder and harder with each newly exposed inch of skin. But it was the way his eyes darkened as she undressed, the way his gaze devoured every single line and curve of the body she’d spent her young years doubting that had her curling her finger, beckoning him over with an open invitation to have her in all the ways she wanted to give herself to him.

 

His lips were on hers in an instant, his body scaling the length of hers as the soft flannel draping his torso caressed her curves. She reached up to push it off his shoulders, hands flying next to pop open the button of his jeans. He moaned against her lips, the vibration rumbling straight through her when her hand brushed him through the thin cotton of his boxers. Pushing his jeans down his hips, she eagerly let him pull them off the rest of the way. He tugged off his henley and discarded it, making his way back to her lips with their centers aligned, separated by two flimsy scraps of fabric. 

 

“Tell me what you want, Betty,” he breathed against her mouth and she felt her thighs clench at the rough texture of his voice.

 

When she didn’t respond he pulled his lips away, sucking and nipping at her neck until she was panting beneath him, tilting her hips up in search of friction. He pulled back and asked again, “What do you want, Betty?”

 

“You,” she breathed on an exhale, nerve endings alight with need. “You, Jughead. I want you.”

 

He ground himself against her, the pressure alone enough to make her head spin. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him down, meeting his mouth in a searing kiss. Gripping her breast, he began to knead, his teeth scraping her neck as his hips pressed into her over and over again. She wasn’t even naked and yet she was pretty damn positive she could come from the sensation alone. 

 

“I need you in me,” she breathed against his ear, nipping at the lobe to punctuate her point.

 

“Not yet.” Betty pressed her eyelids shut when she felt his fingers circling the damp spot on her underwear. She huffed out a breath when she felt them slip under the fabric and sucked another one in when she felt one slide inside of her. 

 

“Jug,” she moaned when he picked up the pace, pulling his lips to hers.

 

She came with his lips pressed into a smile against hers, a soft cry spilling from her own. 

 

“Condom?” she asked, still slightly breathless but far from sated.

 

He nodded and rolled over quickly, searching his bag on the floor for only a few seconds before returning with it gripped between his teeth. With it in place, and the foil tossed aside, he hovered over her again, a look of near disbelief clouding his eyes as he said, “Are you sure?”

 

She giggled as she reached up, cupping his face and pulling it to her as she said, “Yes, Jug,” nodding for emphasis.

 

He looked straight at her as they joined, watching the way she sucked in a breath before blowing it out once he was all the way in, his gaze silently asking if she was okay, and her responding nod egging him on. They found a slow rhythm at first, all the fire and blaze from earlier now smoldering with intensity. They ebbed and flowed, pushed and pulled, took their time adjusting to the sweet, sensual steps and she could  _ feel  _ every millisecond of it, the way their bodies moved together in a timeless dance.

 

She felt overwhelmed with the weight of her want, pressing her hands to his chest and twisting their bodies so his back was on the bed. Her knees settled on either side of his hips and she reached down to line him up again. Sinking down, she moaned, rising and falling again as she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the pads of his thumbs tweak her nipples and she clenched. He pinched down experimentally and she did it again, biting her lip as he played with the fine line between pleasure and pain that she’d been exploring all her life. She gripped the headboard behind him and said, “Sit up.” He scooted back flush against the headboard, gripping her hips as he readjusted. She sat up straighter as she began to ride him again, rocking her hips experimentally. Jughead leaned forward and pulled a nipple between his teeth, nibbling on the bud before soothing it with his tongue. 

 

She was getting closer as he sucked a bruise into her collarbone, teeth scraping as his fingers twisted a nipple. She crested with a fistful of his hair and a throaty groan bubbling up from him in response, his hips pressing into hers a few more times before he followed suit.

 

With her fingers wrapped around the headboard, she panted, “Ohmigod,” into his ear, her arms draped around his shoulders and her body feeling practically boneless.

 

-

 

Judging by the time, the Andrews would be back any minute. Jughead and Betty were sprawled beneath the sheets, freshly bathed with sheets they’d changed after their last romp. He’d taken his time with her in the shower, his mouth following the lines the falling droplets took. Her moans had echoed off the tiled walls shamelessly and when she’d offered to reciprocate, he’d told her ‘another time’. It was the elephant in the room, the agreement that was soon ending yet didn’t feel quite as final as it once had. 

 

“Hey, Juggie,” she whispered, idly tracing circles against his chest. “Can we talk now?”

 

“Sure.” He sat up against the same headboard she’d been holding onto so fiercely earlier. The memory alone making her cheeks heat every so slightly. “I take it you’re ready to have the proverbial ‘us’ talk?”

 

“I am,” she said. “Is there… an us?”

 

“Is there?” he asked, trying to keep his lifetime of lonely disappointment from coloring his tone. 

 

“If it’s up to me,” she paused, sucking in a breath, “yes?”

 

“Yes?” he echoed, a look of relief flooding his features. 

 

She smiled as she repeated, “Yes,” and leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips. Pulling back, she said, “I know we don’t know each other very well yet and I know we’ve kind of done this all backwards,” she gestured to their current state of undress, “But I like you a lot, Jughead, and I think we could give this a real shot.”

 

“I like you, too, Betty Cooper, and I’d love to keep seeing you after this. I’m not saying you have to be my girlfriend or anything yet, but I’d like to take you out to dinner one night, or maybe a movie, who knows maybe even both,” he laughed.

 

“Yes, yes, and yes,” she breathed against his lips, settling into his side again for their last night between the sheets in Riverdale, and the first of hopefully many to come without the guise of an act. It felt even more comfortable, if that possible, to lay in his arms as the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her into a restful sleep.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo... I CANNOT WAIT to see what you guys thought of this chapter.
> 
> Please let me know!
> 
> I'm also beyond excited for the gift exchange in the next chapter!!! I hope you all love this as much as I do!


	7. December 25th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh man oh man oh mannnnn, this chapter had me all in my feels. the present exchange is probably my favorite part yet. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have! Only one more chapter to go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS - @jandjsalmon is mysitcal and magical and deserves all the love in the world for her incredible input, sharp eyes, and willingness to devote her time to this little fic with the insane update schedule. Tell her how amazing she is!

*

 

Jughead woke up with a strange desire to pinch himself.

 

Reaching over and gripping a strip of skin on his arm between his fingers, he did. The responding pang of pain told him it wasn’t, in fact, a dream. 

 

Betty’s golden hair was fanned across his chest, her cheek pressed there and her arms wound around his waist. They’d lifted the veil the night before, the flimsy lie of who they were to each other just days before. Waking up with her in his arms, in the same bed, with parts of her that were waking him up in other ways pressed against him, was better than any dream he could have hoped to imagine. 

 

She liked him. Even after bringing her home and showing her the people who helped shape the man he had become - she still - honest to God -   _ liked _ him. 

 

Jughead felt like a teenager, ruminating over the girl he’d just slept with actually liking him. The attraction had been undeniable, at least on his part, and after he’d kissed her just once, he’d become addicted, craving the feel of her skin beneath him, daydreaming about the soft plush of her lips.

 

He was more excited than even Paris had been the day before - the actual kid on Christmas. Then he remembered - it  _ was actually Christmas!  _ He rolled her over gently, slowly turning her body until she was flat on her back. 

 

The patches of snow outside amplified the muted glow of the sunrise and he paused for just a moment to take her in. She looked positively delectable. 

 

Shuffling down softly on his knees, he burrowed under the covers, gently spreading her legs as he settled between.

 

“Jug,” he barely heard through the muffled layers of the blanket.

 

“I’m kind of busy down here,” he called back playfully, running a finger along the crease of her thigh. “Check back later.”

 

-

 

They walked downstairs with presents in hand and smiles on their faces, the ghosts of kisses still linger on his lips as he smiled at Fred and Mary sitting by the tree. 

 

“Are you guys ready?” Mary asked, a sweet smile on her face.

 

“I think so,” Betty said, setting down the presents amongst the pile in the middle.

 

Betty got three - one she knew about and two she didn’t.

 

Jughead had four presents in front of him - all but one from Fred and Mary.

 

Fred and Mary had little piles of their own, gifts for each other and some sent through the mail for them to open.

 

“Who’s first?” Fred asked, box in hand.

 

“Guests do the honors,” Mary answered, eyes turned on Betty.

 

She took a deep breath and said, “Okay,” carefully peeling back the corner of the present Jughead had bought her in town. It was a snowflake necklace that shimmered in the sun. “Thank you,” she said softly and all he could do was grin in response.

 

Jughead went next, unwrapping a new moleskin notebook with a J emblazoned on the front, the present they'd picked together.

 

Fred and Mary opened their decorative wall piece, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ as they peeled back the paper.

 

When Betty went again she grabbed the present he’d picked up a few days before, something he’d snuck to the cashier while she was still looking around for his gift. Once again, she gingerly fingered the wrapping and finagled it open with minimal tearing, taking all the time and care in the world to reveal a small snowglobe with a pair of twins perched right in the middle. “It reminded me of your niece and nephew,” he said sheepishly when she looked up at him with glassy eyes.

 

She said, “Thank you, Juggie,” and leaned over for a kiss, broken from her reverie when a chorus of ‘awws’ sounded from a few feet away.

 

It was Jughead’s turn again, and he chose a rectangular box with Mary’s lilting script on the tag. He tore it open to reveal a shadow box holding something he’d lost years before - a crown shaped beanie with the same red button and little white rectangle pin still sitting snugly against the fabric. “How did you…” He stared in disbelief, popping open the box and retrieving the piece of him he never thought he’d see again.

 

“You should thank Archie,” Fred answered, “and Mary sewed up the hole.”

 

Jughead thought back to that first night he’d shown up at the hospital, worried sick and on the edge of his seat. When things had been looking bleak, he’d ripped the beanie he’d been wearing since childhood right off his head, widening a hole and tossing it in the trash in a particularly dark spot in his memory. He remembered musing about the guise of comfort, and how even his own safety blanket hadn’t been of comfort when he needed it the most. When he’d gone back later that day, the trash had already been emptied and he’d mourned it’s loss, a clear turning point in his life. Shortly after he’d returned to school, his nose to the grindstone and a new determination pushing him toward his goals. 

 

“Thank -” he paused to clear his throat, a sudden tickle catching him off guard, “Thank you. This means more than you know.” He’d nearly forgotten Betty was right there with him, lost in thought until her palm landed warm against his arm. 

 

Fred and Mary each opened a present from each other. Mary pulled a lilac themed bathroom assortment in a tin out of her bag and Fred unwrapped a set of new grill tools. 

 

Betty’s last present was from Mary, and she tenderly unwrapped it, a clear glass box waiting inside with a beautiful pink ornament. It looked like a flower wrapped around a girl and was entirely made of glass. 

 

“It's a De Carlini,” Mary piped up, “Kind of a family tradition. There are hundreds of different ornaments and they’re all made of glass. We give everyone a new ornament each year. Jug’s is in that last box over there,” she pointed at what he knew was his matching piece. “That way, you know, when you put up your tree next year, you have something to remember us by.”

 

Jughead could see tears slowly forming on her lids, pooling until she blinked as she turned the glass girl in her hands. “I-” she started, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffling, “I just… thank you,” she finally settled on, getting up and giving both Fred and Mary hugs. “Thank you so much for everything. This Christmas has been the best I’ve had in years and I just want to thank you for including me.”

 

“Anytime, Betty,” Mary promised. “Anytime.”

 

-

 

“You definitely weren’t lying,” Betty said with an easy smile, carefully placing her new ornament already wrapped in two sweaters in the very center of her bag, “Mary gives the best presents.”

 

“Hey, I don’t think we did half bad,” he defended, “But yeah, it’s like a superpower. She’s always been an amazing gift giver.”

 

“Speaking of,” she paused, holding up the snow globe, “Jug, I really, really love it. I’ll look at it every year and think of the twins.”

 

“And the snowflakes,” he added. “They reminded me of our first day here. You were catching the snowflakes and I just remember thinking how happy you looked for the first time since I’d met you. I just wanted to get you something that would give you that same smile when you looked at it.”

 

“Jug,” she breathed, closing the distance between them to press her lips to his. “ _ You _ make me smile,” she added, tilting her forehead on his.

 

-

 

They’d said goodbye with teary hugs all around, promises of another visit finally being verbalized with the prospect of something real on the horizon between them. Unlike their drive up, for the return ride home, Betty was tucked into his side, leaning up against his shoulder as she dozed off less than an hour into the drive. 

 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, waking her up about halfway through the trip as she twisted to pull it out. “Hello,” she mumbled, followed by a loud yawn that had Jughead smiling fondly at her.

 

“Elizabeth Cooper, it’s rude to yawn into the phone like that.”

 

“Mom?” She sat up straighter, rubbing her palm over her face to wake herself up even more.

 

“Yes, it’s your mother - and Merry Christmas to you, too. Are you driving right now? It sounds like you’re driving,” Alice pressed, her typical icy tone replaced with genuine curiosity.

 

“I’m not,” she said, stifling a yawn until she could pull away, blinking a few more times. “Jughead is. And Merry Christmas to you, too. I miss you,” she quickly added, because she really did - even after a near perfect holiday with the Andrews, she still missed her own family, the ache only partiarly eased by the memory of the preceding days.

 

“I miss you too, Betty,” her mother said softly. “Polly and the twins do too. Your package came yesterday and I have to say, I really like them. At least we know you have the Cooper taste. Listen, I’m sorry for the phone call last week. Things around here have been stressful and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I just-”

 

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s in the past. I appreciate your apology but let’s just move forward from here. Tell  _ everyone  _ I miss them please and I’m sorry I’m not there this year, but I’ll see you all soon. I think,” she paused, turning to look at Jughead who was in turn facing the road, his palm smoothed over her thigh, “I think I want you to meet someone.”

 

He eyed her suspiciously, but with a small smile playing at the edges of his lips betraying the questioning exterior. “Well, that would be just lovely, Elizabeth. Your sister and I worry about you sometimes. I’m glad you’ve got someone in your life who cares for you.”

 

“I think he does,” she said wistfully, laying her own hand over his and squeezing gently.

 

“Of course, he’ll need our seal of approval before any nuptials can be arranged. I mean -”

 

“Mom,” she groaned, clearly The Farm had brainwashed her into believing her youngest daughter was anywhere near marriage. “It’s new. Just - don’t jinx it, okay?”

 

“Whatever you say, Elizabeth. Oh, here’s Polly. I love you. Happy Holidays.”

 

“I love you, too, Mom,” she said fondy, well aware of the watchful eyes staring at her from less than a foot away. 

 

“Betty?” she heard on the other end of the line. “Oh, Betty, I’ve missed you so much. Those outfits for the twins are the cutest things I’ve ever seen! We’ve been in line for the phone since early this morning just waiting and waiting to call you. They arrived yesterday and the twins are wearing them now. They look like dolls, Betty! My perfect, precious little babies. Thank you  _ so  _ much for sending them and Reverend Evernever says they’re made of all recyclable materials so we can wear them here! They’re organic, imagine that!” Polly laughed.

 

“Technically all clothing is organic in its purest form,” Betty started but was met with silence on the other end of the line. “Anyway, Pol, it was so great to hear from you. Give the twins a kiss and a hug from Auntie Betty and tell them I’ll see them soon. I miss you. I love you, and Merry Christmas to your little commune family.”

 

“Now Betty, it’s not a commune,” Polly had to add, “but I’ve got to go, there’s a line for the phone. I love you. Talk soon, Baby Sister.”

 

“Love you, too.” Betty ended the call with a broad smile on her face. The overnight delivery had gotten there - not that it had to travel all that far to begin with - but the thought of the twins clad in the matching outfits at that very moment felt an awful lot like a Christmas miracle. As did the man beside her, the mysterious stranger she’d slowly gotten to know over the last few days. After their night together, she wanted to be as close as possible for as long as their ride would allow. They hadn’t really set any plans yet for after they got back to the city. A lingering promise of some future date didn’t quite feel like enough after waking up wrapped in his warmth for the better part of the past week. 

 

Sure, she’d be returning to her own home and her own life, with the added bonus of him whenever they could make the time, but she worried that outside of Riverdale, the prospect of their easy domesticity may feel a little more strained. Was the thirty minute walk between their apartments too far after a long day of work? Would the flame they’d fanned in the snowy town over the holidays fizzle out with the mundanity of everyday life? Would -

 

The swipe of his thumb against her knuckles stopped the impending spiral, the curve of his lip easing her worries. She leaned into his side again and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

 

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Cooper?” He laced their fingers together in her lap.

 

“Just thinking.”

 

He bumped her shoulder, tsking his tongue, asking for more.

 

“I’m worried, Jug,” she admitted. “I’m worried we’ll go back to our lives and I’ll work late when we’re supposed to have a date, or you’ll be tired when you get off work, or, or-”

 

“Betty,” he drawled, glancing over at her for a brief second before returning his gaze to the road, “I showed you my hand. I like you - no matter where we are. Whatever becomes of us, that’s up to you. Riverdale does funny things to people and if the New York smog makes me turn from a prince back into a frog, I get it.”

 

“It won’t,” she added quickly. “I’m just really in my head right now. It’ll pass.”

 

She squeezed his hand and nestled closer.

 

“We’ll figured it out.” 

 

The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter as she echoed, “We’ll figure it out.”

 

-

 

With her bags sitting on the sidewalk outside of her building, she watched him dig his hands in his pockets as he rocked from heel to toe.

 

“Thank you,” she offered, trapping her lip between her teeth. She was debating on inviting him up, wondering where the line of acceptability lay after sleeping together only the night before. They’d decided to transcend the town’s lines and bring their romance back to the city, but as she stood on the steps, somehow she was nervous to take the next step. The three-day rule surely didn’t apply, and there probably wasn’t a rule for their particular situation.

 

But she didn’t have to make the call after all because Jughead took a short step, his fingertips slipping along her jaw as he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to her in a sound kiss.

 

She was still a little dazed, a small smile playing on the edge of her lips when he tilted his forehead on hers, whispering, “See you soon,” before bidding her goodbye with another sweet kiss.

 

-

 

Later that night, spinning a glass of white wine in her fingers, Betty dug through every social media she could find, coming up empty under every pseudonym she knew for him. All she wanted to do was find a few pictures, but his virtual profile was nowhere to be found.

 

Tipping back the remainder of the glass, she pulled up her messages. She clicked on the message she’d sent Kevin, replying to his inquisitive texts with vague answers and a healthy dose of smiley faces before scrolling up to look at the selfie she’d sent him a few days before. 

 

She could feel the silly smile spread between her cheeks, but without a single watchful eye on her, she let the giddy feeling bubble up her chest. They looked cute - her hair was a tiny bit ruffled and the angle could have been more flattering, but the glint in his eye and the curve of his smile made the picture.

 

With a few quick taps, she forwarded the picture to him and locked her phone. 

 

She hadn’t expected the responding chirp mere moments later. 

 

**Jug** \- Do you have to work tomorrow?

 

**Betty** \- No. Do you?

 

**Jug** \- Can I take you somewhere?

 

Her response was instantaneous, not even enough time for the dancing dots on his end before she sent three little letters - ‘Yes’.

 

-

 

Walking along the sidewalk the next day, his hand brushed hers before he laced their fingers together. The streets were busy, people shuffling from one side to the other when he pulled her closer, leading them down to the subway station and studying the boards. They weren’t far from his place, she’d gathered, but it was a stretch of city she hadn’t yet explored. 

 

One short ride and a set of steps later, they were back on a sidewalk with melting salt crackling beneath their boots. The glowing red sign from what appeared to be a diner reminiscent of Pop’s. 

 

He ordered a burger with a large side of fries, citing, “Breakfast of Champions,” as she smiled and ordered a Greek Omelette. When the food came, she picked off his plate, noting the surprisingly satisfying crunch of the golden fries.

 

Once they were both arguably full, which took far more for Jughead to reach than herself, they walked a few more blocks to Central Park. Betty hadn’t spent much time in the green space before, but the parts she did know were clear on the other side of the city.

 

-

 

The ice rink came into view a short while later, and Betty’s eyes went wide with a hopeful look as he nodded. “Have you ever ice skated before?” he asked.

 

“A few times when I was younger, but it’s been years. I didn’t take you as the skating type,” she added.

 

“I’m not,” he laughed. “But JB forced me to go a couple years ago and apparently I’m not terrible.”

 

“You know, Jughead,” she said, pressing into his side, “You are full of surprises.”

 

He pressed a kiss to her lips once they’d rented and laced up their skates, stepping onto the ice first and holding his hand out for hers. She reached forward and tentatively stepped on the ice, taking his hand and gripping it to steady herself.

 

They started in slow, wide circles, gliding on the ice as they watched others race past them with practiced ease. Occasionally they’d see someone slip, both wincing at the sight before continuing their meandering pace.

 

The pink pea coat she’d worn wasn’t enough to keep the chill at bay. Betty’s teeth chattered together for only a moment before he noticed it, tucking her into his side with an arm slung around her shoulders. It stayed there, wrapped around her and firmly in place until they stepped off the ice a half hour later.

 

-

 

“Do you want to come up?” The sun was low in the sky, the neon pink and orange mixing together to cast a warm glow across the sharp lines of the city. He apparently lived in Harlem, just on the other side of Central Park and a few blocks up so he’d offered her a ride home in his truck this time, citing the sheer volume of people on the subway as his reason - not that he needed one, she thought.

 

“Sure,” she said with a smile brimming on her lips.

 

-

 

Her eyes skated over the shelves stuffed haphazard stacks of books, studying their spines and tucking the names away for future reference. He had all the classics - Hemingway, Capote, Fitzgerald, and Dickens, and more she couldn’t quite read from her place on the couch, pressed to his side.

 

Game of Thrones was playing on the television between the bookshelves - something they’d agree was worth another full rewatch for them both - or a fourth rewatch her for at that point. They were on episode four when she finally yawned, letting the exhaustion of the day and the comforting feel of his body wrapped around hers wash over her.

 

“Do you want me to take you home?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

 

She shook her head no and glanced up at him, leaning forward to connect their lips before saying, “I’m fine right here.”

 

One kiss wasn’t enough, and soon his mouth was back on hers with all the ferocity she’d felt just two days before when they were wrapped in the sheets of their shared bed in Riverdale.

 

But this time tentative touches and testing grips were replaced with a sense of surety as her hands slid around his neck and she pulled him down to lay on the couch.

 

With the soft glow of the screen painting the room, he brought her to her peak once with his hands, then again with his mouth before she pressed him into the cushions and took over. The squeak of the springs and their breathy moans were drowned out by the sounds of Cersei’s talk with Eddard and the low rumble of the streets that never seemed to dull - no matter the time of night.

 

She pulled him into his bedroom, flicking off the television before dragging him along and even though she knew she'd sleep less than she had the night before, it was worth the hours filled with other activities that had been relegated to mere dreams within her own walls. She awoke the next morning feeling a hint of hope, with his arms tight around her and his soft snores echoing through the room.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are SO close to the end of this little tale. Please let me know what you thought of the presents, did you like the way i used the beanie? the ornament? which was your favorite gift?
> 
> The final chapter will take place on New Years Eve/ New Years Day. Thank you all for sticking with me on this fic and thank you for taking the time to read.
> 
> I love you allllll <3


	8. 12 more months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, so what a ride this has been! HUGE thank you to @jandjsalmon for being her wonderful self and betaing this whole thing - as well as cheering me on <3 ily.  
> Also thanks to my lovely giftee @sunlitgarden (@lovedinapastlife on tumblr) for giving me these little kernels of ideas that swirled so far out of control. 
> 
> I hope you like the last chapter! It's a bit different than the ones before and hopefully, it gives you a sweet little glimpse of the next year of their lives <3
> 
> Thank you guys for reading!

*

 

**January**

 

The new year started with a midnight kiss, a press of their lips under a blanket on the couch that soon grew into more. A thirty-minute walk was, in fact, quite far Betty soon found out, but they took turns at the apartments. His coffee mug wound up in her cabinet, her spare toothbrush found a home on his sink, and the steady click-clack of his keyboard when he was writing and she was cooking was a sound that never ceased to make her smile.

 

With each passing week, the distance from one apartment to the other began to close. He left things at hers and she did the same, splitting their time together evenly with rarely more than a day apart. 

 

It was addicting, the comfort of his presence and the warmth of his smile. Something she knew she’d already gotten used to.

 

**February**

 

Standing on the other side of the door Jughead already had a key for, he raised his fist to knock, holding a bouquet of peonies and nervously shuffling his feet. He’d never had a date for Valentines before and he’d meticulously planned the night ahead. Archie had told him restaurants book up months in advance and he was too late for the best ones, but he had another plan.

 

The flowers were cut and displayed on her counter when she slipped her hand in his and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, murmuring, “I’m excited,” before they were on their way.

 

With her feet strapped in heels, he opted for an Uber, whispering the address of their destination to the driver then bringing her lips to his to keep her occupied on the drive. She recognized the front of his building when they pulled apart but still look surprised when she saw the spread upstairs. 

 

A bottle of champagne sat untouched and their food grew cold, a different kind of hunger coursing through them both. They’d gotten all dressed up, a stiff suit he never wore and a slinky pink dress he’d never seen, but they were left in the kitchen with the food, untouched and forgotten as he focused on the curves of her form and how supple her skin felt beneath the tips of his fingers.

 

**March**

 

The slow simmer inside of Betty was a full on blaze as she learned every dip and curve of his body. Betty hadn’t even known it could be like that, with trust and communication, discussions of their wants and needs. It got better each time, if that was even possible, a slow synchronized dance that they honed with practice. She’d bought him new sheets and a set of pots and pans and when she saw them stretched across his mattress and stacked in the cabinets, her heart skipped a beat. 

 

Even with her products on the bathroom counter and her yogurt in the fridge, something about the simple domesticity of it all was nearly overwhelming. In such a short time, she’d learned so much about him, about herself, and about what she wished she’d found earlier in her life. Because she’d come to the conclusion that she’d wasted her time with anyone but him. 

 

She’d come to expect commentary on any and every film they ever watched together. The soothing lilt to his voice wrapped her in warmth as he rattled off bits of trivia sprinkled with his own opinions and she always wound up kissing him in return. It was genuinely good and getting better each day.

 

**April**

 

They had their first fight. Months of smooth sailing inevitably lead to rougher seas one night Jughead came home late and she’d been dressed for a dinner date he’d totally forgotten. “I had a huge deadline,” didn’t go far with her, the answering huff and click of her heels leaving him stunned in the front room. 

 

It took everything in him not to give in to the voice in the back of his head telling him just to leave. He’d always been good at that - knowing when to cut and run. But he’d stayed, albeit on the couch where he eventually dozed off only to be woken by the soft press of her lips. He wasn’t even fully awake before, “I’m sorry,” tumbled lazily from his lips and she kissed him again, murmuring, “I know.”

 

They’d developed a shared calendar a few days later and he hasn’t missed a dinner since.

 

**May**

 

Betty told him she loved him under the light of spring moon, walking through Central Park one night with the hum of live music filtering through the trees nearly drowning out the sentiment. Standing on a small bridge on a Thursday night with nothing else notable to mark the day, she’d told him she loved him - and he’d said it back.

 

Those three little words weaved their way into her daily routine, punctuating conversations and slipping from her lips between the sheets. 

 

**June**

 

Jughead asked her to move in with him, picking up on the not so subtle way she left the classifieds opened to housing on the counter more than once. There were tears in her eyes when she said, “Yes.”

 

Their first summer was spent painting the walls and ‘brightening the space,’ in the typical Betty Cooper fashion he’d grown to know and love. But more than once he caught himself thinking, grabbing a pen and jotting down lines about the true source of light in his life. 

 

Coming home late from work one day, he pulled open the door to the smell of lasagna invading his senses before he even noticed she’d unpacked her last box. The bookshelf was a bright white, dots of color beaming from the shelves as he realized her books were in there, too. And not simply on shelves he’d already had filled, but slipped and slid into every nook and cranny he could see. 

 

Above it all, in the same glass case he’d held just months before, the framed beanie hung front and center. She didn’t even need to ask what he thought, the answering appreciation from his mouth and his hands made it more than apparent.

 

**July**

 

Jellybean visited after the school year, bouncing up and down as she told Betty about the first day they’d met. Jughead look mortified and she studied his features, taking in the blush rising to his cheeks as she smiled at the sweet tale. She’d liked him too, of course, as she’d told him time and time again since.

 

She’d never seen two people consume so much food in her entire life. A month’s worth of groceries disappeared in the visit and JB always jumped up to help clean the kitchen, lending a hand wherever she was needed. She talked about college, about the prospect of the coming year and all that it held, and Betty supplied details of her own experience to supplement JB’s fantasies. 

 

**August**

 

The heat seeped through the windows and the weekends found them sprawled on the couch with a fan on full blast. Even after months of unfiltered access to every inch of her body, Jughead still found himself entranced by her curves. The heat wasn’t so bad, he thought when he’d pull her onto his lap, he thought he’d rather burn alive than forgo the opportunity. 

 

The Andrews called about Christmas and they solidified the plans - opting this time to book a room at the Pembrook for the bonus of seclusion. As nice as it had been to stay with Fred and Mary the year before, Jughead now knew the exact octave she’d hit when she reached her peak and the thought of it bouncing between the walls of the house he practically grew up in convinced him they needed the privacy.

 

**September**

 

After a long call with her mother and the name of a motel not far from The Farm, Betty asked Jughead to go with her for a visit. The twins took to him with ease and her mother’s typically stoic exterior seemed to soften a bit when Betty said, “Yes, I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been,” with a smile she couldn’t shake.

 

Betty had tears in her eyes when she said, “Goodbye,” but Polly said they’d drive up on Thanksgiving. With a promise to the twins to see them soon and a plan hatching in the back of her mind, she told Jughead her favorite stories of growing up with Polly - of their larger than life dollhouse and favorite spots in the woods as The Farm faded into the distance.

 

**October**

 

He didn’t even fight her when she’d proposed a couples costume. Settling on Romeo and Juliet, he found that he was glad to be so compliant. The scalloped edge of the lace teased him throughout the party, the skirt he knew was far too short to be period appropriate swished around her lean legs as they swayed to the beat of a song he didn’t even recognize.

 

Jughead was never one for parties, but the appeal was easier to understand with Betty on his arm and cups of BooBerry Punch in their hands. Some colleague of his threw the party, and he wasn’t even sad to leave when she whispered she was, “ready to get out of here.”

 

They barely made it into the taxi before his lips were on hers and his hand fisted the skirt that’d been teasing him all night.

 

**November**

 

Polly and twins arrived two hours late. Dinner was done and being rotated in and out of the oven to keep the sides warm when the knock finally sounded at the door. It may not have been the holidays yet, but Betty had put up the tree just a few days before. If she couldn’t spend Christmas with them, she thought she’d just celebrate a little bit early. 

 

The twins  _ ooh’d  _ and  _ ahh’d  _ as they tore open their presents after dinner, and Polly commented on the beautiful pink ornament with the blown glass flower. Betty casually said, “It’s my favorite,” fully aware of the smile twisting at the edge of Jughead’s lips.

 

**December**

 

Christmas Day they drove home again, this time to a single place with no pretense of separation on the horizon. Her palm found purchase on his thigh as the talked about Fred and his new affinity for cooking. Even though he’d burnt the rolls, the rest of the dinner was nearly flawless and Betty hadn’t had to raise a finger this time around.

 

Jughead watched her place the newest ornaments with careful consideration toward the top of the tree, stepping back to take in the sight. His hands curled around her hips, pulling her back to him and dropping a kiss on her shoulder. 

 

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled, and she hummed her approval, blissfully unaware that he meant far more than just the tree.

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - it's over.
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> Did the glimpses of Jan - Dec work for you guys?
> 
> What was your favorite month, or part of the story? 
> 
> I'd love to hear it and one day you will get a little notification that I've stopped writing long enough to reply to your comment I swear it!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... what did you guys think?!
> 
> Come find me on tumblr - @bugggghead
> 
> Comments ALWAYS appreciated! (I know, I know - I've said it before and I'll say it again - I am THE WORST at comment replies but I really do aspire to be caught up one day. AND I love and cherish each and every one!)


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